t-^ 


j/U 


m 


^-■^ 

m'^ 

.Ms 

-  ■  .^J*/  1 

■  '-t'^p^ 

f'"- 

■^    aa 

''Wif^ 

Wmm 

i   ' '  •      '  r'i 

'^aa   /^ 

''^MB' 

mm 

r? 

■.U0^f^} 

W'^  J  T^ 

^-^Jk 

^ 

^^^^'  ■ 

^E 

^ 

fft' 

^-r^ 


nm^SSSSSm 


i>  ■T'^mm  mi 


LI  B  RAR.Y 

OF  THE 

UN  IVERSITY 

or    ILLINOIS 

82  3 


W^T.t.^ 


The  person  charging  this  material  is  re- 
sponsible for  its  return  to  the  library  from 
which  it  was  withdrawn  on  or  before  the 
Latest  Date  stamped  below. 

Theft,  mutilation,  and  underlining  of  books  are  reasons 
for    disciplinary    action    and    may   result   in    dismissal    from 

the  University. 

To  renew  call  Telephone  Center,  333-8400 

UNIVERSITY    OF    ILLINOIS    LIBRARY    AT    URBANA-CHAMPAIGN 


ilAR  Q 


1984 


L161— O-1096 


^' 


THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 


VOL.  1. 


NEW  AND  POPULAR  NOVELS 

AT  ALL  THE  LIBEAEIES. 


THE  MAN  SHE  CARED  FOR.     By  F.  W.  Robinson, 

author  of  '  Grandmother's  Money,'  '  No  Church,'  &c.    3  vols. 

WE  TWO.      By  Edna  Lyall,  author  of  '  Donovan,'  &c. 

3  vols. 

THE   PITY    OF   IT.     By  Mrs.  M.  E.  Smith,  author  of 

'  It  Might  have  Been,'  '  Tit  for  Tat,'  &c.    3  vols. 

DAWN.     By  H.  Rider  Haggard.    3  vols. 
OMNIA  VANITAS :  A  Tale  of  Society.    1  vol. 


HURST  &  BLACKETT,  13,  GREAT  MARLBOROUGH  STREET. 


THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE 


EV 

JAMES   GRANT 

AUTHOR  OF 

THE  ROMANCE  OF  WAR,"  "THE  CAMERONIANS,' 
"  THE  SCOTTISH  CAVALIER," 

ETC.   ETC. 


IN  THREE  VOLUMES. 
VOL.  L 


LONDON: 
HURST  AND  BLACKETT,  PUBLISHERS, 

13,  GREAT  MARLBOROUGH  STREET. 

1884. 

All  rights  reserved. 


%^3 


THE  MISTER  OF  ABEPtFELWE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

STALKING   THE   DEER. 

'  I  don't  know  what  Olive  will  think,  or 
how  she  may  view  my  loitering  here,  after 
all  these  years  of  absence,  instead  of  has- 
w  tening  home  to  meet  her ;  but,  truth  to 
tell,  the  temptation  to  have  a  shot  on  the 
purple  heather  after  sweltering  so  long  in 

India  was  so  great ' 

2"  '  What  does  it  matter  what  she  thinks  ?' 
^  interrupted  the  elder  man,  laughing. 
^  *  When  two  persons  are  to  spend  the  whole 
J     term  of  their  natural  lives  together,  they 

YOL.  I.  B 


2  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

can  surely  spare  a  few  days  for  pleasure 
apart !' 

'  But  consider,  I  have  not  seen  my  little 
-fiancee  for  seven  years.' 

*  You  will  find  her  a  pretty  tall  fiancee 
now,'  replied  the  other,  '  and  as  handsome 
as  any  girl  in  Scotland,  Allan.' 

The  speakers  were  Lord  Aberfeldie  (he 
was  viscount  in  the  Peerage)  and  his  son 
Allan,  the  Master,  then  at  home  on  leave 
from  the  Black  Watch,  in  which  he  was  a 
captain ;  and  now,  side  by  side,  they  were 
creeping  up  a  steep  and  stony  corrie  in 
search  of  the  red  deer,  but  paused  for  a 
few  minutes  to  breathe  and  converse. 

The  Master — so  entitled  as  the  son  of  a 
Scottish  baron  (we  may  add  for  the  in- 
formation of  most  English  readers  even  in 
these  days) — was,  like  his  father,  a  tall 
and  soldier-like  fellow,  with  closely-shorn 
dark  brown  hair,  straight  features,  and  an 
almost  black  moustache,  which  partly  con- 


STALKING  THE  DEER.  6 

cealecl  lips  that  were  handsomely  curved, 
and  expressive  of  no  small  degree  of  firm- 
ness and  decision.  He  carried  his  head 
erect,  and  spoke  rather  with  the  air  of  one 
used  to  command  when  addressing  men, 
but  with  great  and  subtle  softness  when 
conversing  with  women  of  every  station 
and  degree ;  and  already,  under  home 
influences,  his  dark  hazel  eyes  were  losing 
the  keen  and  somewhat  hawk-like  expres- 
sion they  had  worn  when  daily  facing 
death  and  suffering  on  active  service. 

Both  father  and  son  were  handsome, 
though  there  were  nearly  thirty  years 
between  them  in  age,  and  both  were,  from 
head  to  foot,  unmistakably  thorough-bred 
men — the  latter  tanned  deeply  by  a  tropical 
sun,  and  his  forehead  scarred  by  a  wound 
from  a  tulwar  blade. 

Lord  Aberfeldie,  now  above  fifty,  had 
taken  a  turn  of  service  for  a  few  years  in 
the  Black  Watch  till  his  succession  to  the 

b2 


4  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

title  required  liis  presence  at  home,  though 
an  enthusiastic  soldier ;  and  soon  af tet*  his 
place  in  the  regiment  which  he  loved  so 
well  was  taken  by  his  only  son  and  heir, 
the  Master,  then  fresh  from  college. 

Father  and  son  both  wore  plain  shoot- 
ing-kilts and  jackets  of  coarse  heather- 
coloured  stuff,  with  handsomely-mounted 
sporans  and  skeins ;  other  ornaments  they 
had  none,  unless  we  except  the  crest  of 
Graham — their  surname — an  eagle  talon- 
ing  a  stork,  in  their  glengarries  ;  and  the 
peer,  who  was  a  keen  fisherman,  had  his 
head-dress  further  garnished  by  various 
flies  and  old  fish-hooks. 

When  en  route  home  to  the  family  seat 
at  Dundargue,  in  the  Carse  of  Gowrie,  the 
Master  had  been  tempted  by  his  father  to 
join  him  at  their  shooting-box  among  the 
lovely  Perthshire  hills,  where,  at  present, 
the  party  consisted  of  only  four — Mr. 
Hawke  Holcroft,   an   English   guest,  and 


STALKING  THE  DEER.  O 

Evan  Cameron,  a  sub.  of  the  Black  Watch, 
also  on  leave;  and  these  two,  attended  by 
a  keeper  and  gillies,  were  creeping  up 
another  corrie,  rifle  in  hand,  about  half  a 
mile  distant. 

'You  have  had  this — a — Mr.  Holcroft 
with  you  for  some  time  at  Dundargue  V 
said  Allan  Graham,  questioningly. 

'  Yes — for  some  weeks — before  we  came 
up  to  the  hills  here.' 

*  He  cannot  know  anything  about  the 
implied  engagement — that  of  Olive  Ray- 
mond with  me?' 

*  Implied  ?' 

'  Well — the  peculiar  arrangements  that 
exist  under  her  father's  eccentric 
will.' 

'  Probably  not — nay,  undoubtedly  not,' 
replied  his  father,  eyeing  him  keenly  ;  '  it 
is  no  business  of  his — so,  whence  the  ques- 
tion, Allan  ?' 

*  Because  he   showed   me,  rather  vaunt- 


6  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

ingly,  a  very  fine  photo  he  keeps  in  his 
pocket-book.' 

'  A  photo  of  Olive  ?' 

'  Yes.' 

'  The  deuce  he  does.  I  have  thought 
her  sometimes  too  epris  with  our  horsey 
friend  Hawke  Holcroft,  and  thus  longed 
for  your  return.  They  renewed  at  Dun- 
dargue,  an  acquaintance  formed  last  sea- 
son in  London,  when  Olive  made  some 
sensation,  I  assure  you  ;  and,  now  that  you 
have  seen  her  photo,  what  do  you  think  of 
her — pretty  ?' 

'Pretty!  She  is  downright  beauti^ 
ful!' 

'  Ah — wait  till  you  have  seen  her.  She 
does  credit  to  your  mother's  rearing  and 
her  governess's  tutelage  ;  but  you  have 
not  exhibited  much  impatience  hitherto. 
Gad,  when  I  was  your  age ' 

'  You  forget  that  she  was  such  a  child 
when  we  parted,'  interrupted  Allan,  strok- 


STALKI>s'G  THE  DEER.     *  / 

ing  out  his  long  dark  moustache.  '  But 
Avas  it  not  rather  cool  of  him  to  show  me 
her  likeness  ?' 

'  Perhaps ;  but  then  it  was  done  in  ig- 
norance of  the  situation,  and  it  is  pro- 
bably the  result  of  some  conservatory 
flirtation.' 

'  But  just  as  he  showed  it  to  me,  was  it 
not  strange  that  I  heard  the  cry  of  a 
plover  overhead,  and ' 

Lord  Aberfeldie  interrupted  his  son  by  a 
hearty  laugh,  and  tossed  away  the  end  of 
his  cigar. 

'  After  eight  years'  soldiering  with  the 
Black  Watch,  do  you  actually  retain  the 
superstition  that  the  plover  is  a  type  of 
inconstancy,  and  the  bird  of  ill-omen 
Burns,  Scott,  and  Leyden  describe  it  as 
being  ?' 

Allan  laughed,  too ;  but  now,  when 
among  his  native  mountains  and  the 
scenes  of  his  childhood,  he  could  not  help 


8.  THE  MASTEE  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

old  Scottish  impressions  returning  to  him, 
though  certainly  the  ranks  of  his  regiment 
were  the  last  place  in  which  he  was 
likely  to  forget  them. 

The  silver-haired  and  silver-bearded  old 
game-keeper,  Dugald  Glas  (whose  real 
name  was  Mackinnon),  a  hawk-eyed  Celt, 
with  a  weather-beaten  visage,  and  bare 
knees  that  were  brown  as  mahogany,  now 
urged  silence  and  no  more  smoking.  He 
had  discovered  by  the  aid  of  his  binocu- 
lars a  couple  of  deer  grazing,  but  pretty 
far  apart,  upon  the  hill-side  ;  and  once 
again  by  private  signal  the  two  parties 
began  mutually  their  stealthy  approach 
upward  in  the  two  corries  that  concealed 
them  in  the  forest^  for  so  it  was  called, 
though  destitute  now  of  trees. 

*A  forest,  as  the  word  was  strictly 
taken  in  ancient  times/  says  Sir  Thomas 
Dick  Lauder,  *  could  not  be  in  the  hands 
of  anyone  but  the  king,  yet  in  later  periods 


STALKING  THE  DEER.  \) 

forests  have  become  the  property  of 
subjects,  or  have  been  erected  by  thein, 
though  without  being  protected  by  forest 
laws.  The  royal  forest  in  the  Isle  of 
Wight,  in  which  there  is  not  a  single 
tree,  is  not  the  only  English  example  re- 
maining of  the  view  taken  of  this  old 
meaning  of  the  word.'  Hence,  he  adds, 
'  Let  not  the  Cockney  suppose  that  the 
word  forest  necessarily  implies  a  district 
covered  with  oaks,  chestnuts,  or  trees  of 
any  other  description.' 

A  powerful  and  gigantic  staghound, 
wiry,  sinewy,  and  iron-grey — the  noble 
dog  that  Landseer  loved  to  depict — saw 
the  deer  already  without  the  aid  of  glasses 
and  strained  hard  upon  his  leash,  an  iron 
chain,  which  was  twisted  round  the  mus- 
cular wrist  of  the  old  keeper,  who  soothed 
and  patted  him,  while  muttering  in  Gaelic, 
'  Mar  e  Bran,  is  e  hraithair  /'  (If  it  is  not 
Bran,  it  is  his  brother),  alluding  to  Fingal's 


10  THE  MASTER  OF  ABEEFELDIE. 

favourite  staghound,  which  he  was  thought 
to  resemble,  as  his  hair  was  iron-grey,  his 
feet  were  yellow,  with  erect  ears  of  a 
ruddy  tinge. 

The  forenoon  was  brilliantly  clear,  so 
the  deer-stalkers  had  not  the  weather  to 
contend  with,  as  that,  if  untoward,  may 
render  all  strategy  vain. 

Lord  Aberfeldie  and  his  son  were  as 
well  aware  as  their  skilled  old  keeper  that 
in  stalking  the  chief  things  to  regard  are 
the  eyes  and  nose  of  the  deer.  His  vision, 
quick  as  that  of  an  eagle,  can  detect  a 
human  head  above  a  ridge  of  rock  or  belt 
of  bracken,  and  he  can  scent  an  intruder 
on  his  '  native  heath,'  if  the  breeze  blows 
from  the  former,  at  a  wonderful  distance  ; 
and  old  Dugald  Glas,  who  had  brought  the 
father  and  son  to  the  forest  at  dawn  with 
as  much  care  and  secresy  as  if  an  assassin- 
ation was  in  hand,  had  long  scanned  the 
vicinity  with  his  glasses  before  he  discover- 


STALKING  THE  DEEE.  ]  1 

ed  the  stags  in  qiiestioD,  and  gave  the 
concealed  stalkers  the  signal  to  approach 
them. 

The  two  animals  were  rather  far  apart  • 
both  were  quietly  feeding,  and — as  the 
season  was  considerably  advanced — both 
in  colour  were  marvellously  like  the  grey 
stone  and  brown  heather  around  them, 
and  both  were,  as  yet,  all  unalarmed  as 
Lord  Aberfeldie,  the  Master,  and  Dugald 
Glas,  while  pausing  and  holding  ever  and 
anon  a  council  of  war  in  low  whispers, 
crept  up  the  stony  corrie,  keeping  carefully 
to  leeward  of  the  quarry  they  had  selected, 
leaving  Cameron  of  Stratherroch  and 
Hawke  Holcroft  to  approach  the  other  as 
best  they  might ;  but  it  was  in  the  present 
instance  absolutely  necessary  that  both 
parties  should  fire  at  the  same  instant,  or 
one  of  the  stags  would  vanish  at  a  gallop, 
perhaps  to  the  most  distant  limit  of  the 
forest. 


12  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

In  crawling  after  such  game  the  bead 
must  be  foremost  when  going  up  a  hill, 
and  the  feet  foremost  when  going  down, 
and  the  stalker  must  creep  on  his  stomach 
and  knees  ;  and  all  this,  when  done  in  the 
kilt,  over  rough  rocks,  sharply-pointed 
heather,  and  mossy  bog,  is  not  to  be 
effected  without  considerable  toil  and  even 
discomfort. 

Nearly  an  hour  of  this  kind  of  work  had 
gone  on,  the  father  and  son  creeping  side 
by  side,  softly  and  in  silence,  dragging 
their  rifles  after  them,  old  Dagald  follow- 
ing in  the  same  fashion,  with  Bran  strain- 
ing on  his  iron  chain  ;  and  once  or  twice 
they  had  actually  to  traverse  the  bed  of  a 
mountain  burn  that  brawled  hoarselj^ 
downward  over  its  brown-worn  pebbles 
and  boulders. 

The  stag  was  still  feeding  quietly,  and 
all  unconscious  of  the  approach  of  death  ; 
and  the  stalkers  were,  they  thought,  within 


STALKING  THE  DEER.  13 

a  safe  distance  now,  and  that  ifc  could  not 
escape  them  ;  so  Dugald  Glas  dropped  be- 
hind, after  whispering  to  the  Master  in 
Gaelic, 

'  Blood  upon  the  skein,  Allan  !' 

Then  the  heart  of  the  latter  began  to 
beat  highly  as  the  moment  for  shooting 
drew  near,  for  after  all  their  care  and  toil 
it  was  quite  possible  that  a  grouse  might 
whirr  up  from  the  heather,  and  with  a 
warning  cry  scare  the  stag  to  full  speed. 

*  You  take  aim,  Allan,'  whispered  Lord 
Aberfeldie,  '  and  I  shall  reserve  my  fire. 
It  is  years  since  you  had  a  shot  at  a  dun 
cow,  my  boy.' 

Inch  by  inch  the  Master  cautiously  in- 
serted his  double-barrelled  rifle  between 
the  stiff  tufts  of  purple  heather  that  fringed 
the  bank  of  the  hollow  up  which  they  had 
been  creeping,  and  brought  the  sights  to 
bear  upon  the  beautiful  and  graceful  ani- 
mal  that  cropped   the   herbage,   with  hi3 


14  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

brandling  antlers  lowered  ;  and  Allan,  in 
the  excitement  of  the  moment,  felt  his 
pulses  beating  wildly. 

'  If  I  miss — if  I  fail !'  he  muttered. 

'  Tut — there  is  no  such  word  as  fail  T 
replied  his  father,  unconsciously  quoting 
^  Richelieu/ 

Allan  drew  a  long  breath,  while  his  dark 
eye  seemed  to  flash  along  the  barrel,  and 
fired.  Bang  went  a  couple  of  rifles  in  the 
distant  corrie,  but  Aberfeldie  and  his  son 
took  no  heed  of  them.  The  latter's  single 
shot  had  sped  true,  piercing  the  stag  above 
the  left  eye.  and  now  it  lay  prone  on  the 
heather,  tearing  up  tufts  and  sandy  earth 
with  its  hoofs  in  the  agonies  of  death. 

Allan's  skein-dhu  was  promptly  in  his 
hand  ;  the  stag  was  gralloched,  and  Dugald 
Glas,  waving  his  bonnet,  shouted  loudly 
for  Alister  Bane  and  Hector  Crubach  (or 
lame  Hector),  two  gillies,  to  bring  up  the 
pony,  on  which  the  dead  animal  was  slung, 


STALKING  THE  DEER.  15 

and  then  the  party  set  out  for  the  place 
appointed  for  lunclieon,  as  mid-day  was 
now  lonor  since  past. 

'AVhat  the  deuce  are  Stratlierroch  and 
Holcrof t  about  ?'  exclaimed  Lord  Aberfel- 
die,  while  shading  his  eyes  with  his  hand ; 
and  to  their  success  in  sport  we  shall  refer 
in  the  next  chapter. 


16 


CHAPTER  II. 

HAWKE      HOLCROFT. 

The  process  of  creepiDOf  in  serpent  fashion 
over  sbarp.pointed  heather,  rough  stones^ 
and  occasionally  in  the  bed  of  a  mountain 
stream,  as  we  have  already  described, 
proved  intensely  tiresome  and  distasteful 
to  a  ^  man  about  town '  like  Mr.  Hawke 
Holcroft,  who  could  not  entirely  conceal 
his  genuine  disgust  thereat,  and  at  the 
slowness  of  the  whole  affair,  though  re- 
minded by  Dugald's  son  Angus,  a  smart 
young  under-keeper,  of  the  big  hart  of 
Benmore,  which  was  stalked  •  for  seven 
long  summer  days  before  it  was  killed. 


HAWKE  HOLCROFT.  17 

*  But,  for  the  Lord's  sake,  sir,  keep  quiet,' 
whispered  Angus.  '  We  are  now  close  on 
one  of  the  finest  of  Macgilony's  dun  cows.' 

'  I  see  no  dun  cow  !'  grumbled  Holcroft. 

'  He  means  yonder  deer,'  whispered 
Cameron,  a  fair-haired  and  pleasant-look- 
ing fellow.  '  Macgilony  was  a  famous 
hunter  in  the  olden  time,  and  his  dun 
cows,  as  he  called  them,  were  the  red 
deer  of  the  Grampians.' 

But  to  Holcroft,  whose  idea  of  hunting 
the  stag  was  to  have  a  scared  and  be- 
wildered creature — a  fallow  deer,  fed  on 
oats  and  hay,  perhaps — cast  loose  from  a 
game-cart  in  a  smooth,  grassy  park,  the 
perseverance,  courage,  and  labour  required 
for  stalking  in  the  Highlands  seemed  a 
simple  waste  of  time  and  an  inconceivable 
bore. 

'  Stop  for  a  minute,'  whispered  Angus, 
as  they  crept  ujo  the  loind ;  '  the  stag  can 
smell  with  more  than  its  nostrils.' 

VOL.  I.  0 


18  THE  MASTER  OF  ^BERFELDIE. 

As  the  stoppage  took  place  directly  in 
the  bed  of  a  brawling  burn,  where  they  all 
lay  on  their  stomachs,  Holcroft  not  un- 
naturally asked,  with  no  small  irritation, 
what  he  meant ;  and  the  wiry  young  High- 
lander, who  was  whiskered  and  moustached 
to  such  an  extent  that,  with  his  shaggy 
eyebrows,  he  somewhat  resembled  a  Skye 
terrier  in  visage,  explained  his  theory — no 
uncommon  one,  though,  of  course,  not 
admitted  by  naturalists — that  the  red  deer 
can  both  smell  and  breathe  through  the 
curious  aperture  beneath  each  eye,  even 
if  their  heads  are  immersed  in  water 
when  in  the  act  of  drinking. 

'  Dioul !'  muttered  Angus,  as  they  crept 
forward  again,  but  on  dry  heather  this 
time,  '  we  can't  be  too  cautious,  whateffer  ! 
A  deer's  eye  is  as  keen  as  an  eagle's,  and 
his  nose  acute  as  that  of  a  foumart.' 

'  The  first  shot  shall  be  yours,  Holcroft,' 
said  Cameron.     '  I  shall  reserve  my  fire. 


HAWKE  HOLCROFT.  19 

He  seems  a  powerful  animal,  and,  if  yon 
onl}^  wound  him,  we  may  have  the  devil 
to  pay  !' 

*  Thanks — but  how  ?'  w^hispered  Hol- 
croft. 

'  If  the  dogs  bring  him  to  bay,  he  may 
turn  upon  us  ere  another  cartridge  can  be 
dropped  in  the  barrel,  and  gore  deep  with 
his  horns/ 

English  sportsmen  generally  prefer  hav- 
ing the  deer  driven  to  stalking  them,  for  the 
bodily  exertion  requisite  in  the  latter  case 
tries  so  severely  every  muscle  and  sinew ; 
but,  to  the  true  Highland  hunter,  one  deer 
shot  after  a  long  and  adventurous  stalk,  is 
worth  a  hundred  knocked  over  after  a 
successful  drive  by  gillies,  when  the  herd 
is  urged  in  wild  confusion  through  some 
narrow  pass  well  garrisoned  by  breech- 
loaders in  secure  ambush. 

While  Holcroft  and  Cameron  crept  soft- 
ly forward  nearer  the  browsing  deer,  the 

c2 


20  THE  MASTER  OV  ABERFELDIE. 

youDg  keeper  threw  his  plaid  over  the  eyes 
of  the  staghound  Shiuloch,  and  held  it  in 
by  main  strength,  though  his  wrist  was 
nearly  dislocated  by  the  strain  of  the  leash, 
and  the  ill-suppressed  whimpers  of  the 
animal  were  lost  amid  its  muffling. 

'  Now,'  whispered  Angus,  hoarsely,  full 
of  excitement — ^  now  is  your  time,  sir  !' 

Holcroft  took  a  long  aim ;  in  his  intense 
anxiety,  and  perhaps  inspired  by  vanity, 
he  overdid  his  aim ;  he  fired  at  the  precise 
moment  Allan's  shot  was  heard  in  the 
distant  corrie,  but  only  wounded  the  stag 
in  the  shoulder,  and,  just  as  he  let  fly  the 
contents  of  the  other  barrel  (and  missed), 
it  fled  away  with  the  speed  of  the  wind, 
followed  by  the  swift  and  powerful  hound, 
which,  quick  as  thought,  Angus  let  slip, 
and  both  vanished  down  a  deep  glen,  over- 
hung by  silver  birches,  close  by. 

*  Ohone  a  Dhia  !  but  he  has  missed  it, 
after  all — it  is  no  use  guiding  a  Sassenach 


HAWKE  HOLCROFT.  21 

whatever  1'  muttered  Angus,  under  bis 
thick,  ruddy  moustache ;  yet,  as  Cameron 
could  read  by  the  expression  that  twin- 
kled in  his  hazel  eyes,  secretly  not  ill- 
pleased  at  the  result,  however. 

'  I  almost  did  it — hit  him,  at  all  events !' 
said  Holcroft,  with  intense  mortification, 
as  he  was  too  much  of  an  Englishman  not 
to  wish  to  excel  in  everything  that  apper- 
tained to  sport. 

'  Almost !'  repeated  Angus,  who  added 
to  Cameron,  in  a  low  voice,  "  Cha  d'rinse 
theob  riomh  secdg  P  {i.e..  Almost,  never 
killed  the  game). 

'  Better  luck  next  time,'  said  the  young 
Laird  of  Stratherroch,  consolingly.  '  Allan 
has  knocked  over  his  deer,  I  see.' 

'  Attempt  and  Did-not  were  the  two 
worst  hounds- of  Fingal,'  muttered  Angus, 
in  his  Perthshire  Gaelic,  with  a  furtive 
glance,  fall  of  meaning,  at  Stratherroch. 

*  To   the   genuine    Highlander,'   says    a 


22  THE  MASTER  OF  ABEEFELDIE. 

recent  EDglisli  writer,  'it  is  a  fixed  article 
of  belief  that  there  never  yet  was  a  Sassen- 
ach who  knew  more  about  the  wind  and 
weather,  or  about  the  innumerable  other 
mysteries  which  furnish  the  stalker  with 
the  tact  and  skill  required  to  perfect  him 
in  his  difficult  craft,  than  a  cow  under- 
stands of  conic  sections.  With  true  Celtic 
caution  and  prudence,  the  gillies  tolerate 
the  opulent  tenant  from  the  south  out  of 
respect  for  his  cheque-book  and  his  fre- 
quent drafts  upon  it ;  but  in  their  hearts 
they  look  upon  him  as  an  intruder,  and  are 
not  sorry  when  they  contemplate  his  re- 
ceding form,  as  he  turns  his  face  home- 
wards, and  leaves  moor,  loch,  and  mountain, 
glen  and  forest  to' their  natural  denizens.' 

And  in  this  spirit  Angus  was  secretly 
regarding  the  unconscious  Mr.  Holcroft, 
who  had  the  srenuine  Southern  idea  that 
no  man  of  •  woman  born  could  undervalue 
him. 


HAWKE  HOLCEOFT.  23 

So  the  little  sliootiDg-partj  united  now, 
and,  not  unwillingly,  all  sat  down  to  have 
luncheon,  as  they  were  sharply  appetised 
by  long  exercise  in  the  keen  mountain  air, 
and  on  no  other  tablecloth  than  the  purple 
heather ;  the  ample  contents  of  a  hamper 
— game  pies,  cold  beef,  bread,  champagne 
(cooled  in  an  adjacent  runnel),  whisky, 
and  so  forth — were  laid  out  by  the  active 
hands  of  the  gillies,  expectant  of  their 
own  repast  when  the  time  came. 

They  lunched  near  the  mossy  ruins  of  a 
clachan — some  of  those  melancholy  ruins 
so  common  over  all  the  Highlands,  the 
traces  of  a  departed  people  who  have 
passed  away  to  other  lands,  evicted  by 
grasping  selfishness  to  make  way  for 
grouse  and  deer. 

There,  the  low,  shattered  gables,  an  old 
well,  some  gooseberry  bushes  that  marked 
*  where  a  garden  had  been,'  were  all  that 
remained    of    a    once    populous    village, 


24  THE  MASTEli  OF  ABEEFELDIE. 

whose  men  had  often  gone  forth  to  fight 
for  Scotland  in  the  wars  of  old,  and  whose 
descendants  in  latter  years  had  manned 
more  than  one  company  of  the  Black 
Watch  in  Egypt  and  the  Peninsula. 

On  the  sunny  hill-slope  close  by,  a  ruined 
wall,  low  and  circular — above  which  appear- 
ed the  grey  arms  of  a  solitary  Celtic  cross, 
an  aged  yew-tree,  and  where  long  grass 
waved  in  the  wind — marked  where  lay  the 
last  of  the  clan,  whom  no  human  power 
could  evict  or  send  towards  the  setting 
sun ;  and  these  imparted  a  melancholy  to 
the  solemn  scenery,  for  solemn  it  was  with 
all  its  beauty. 

It  was  of  that  kind  peculiar  to  some 
parts  of  Perthshire,  where  the  subordinate 
hills,  rising  a  thousand  Feet  and  more 
above  the  valley,  are  entirely  covered  with 
dusky  pines,  taking  away  all  that  appear- 
ance of  blackness  and  desolation  present- 
ed by  naked  mountain  masses,  and  adding 


HAWKE  HOLCROFT.  25 

softness  and  beauty  to  the  landscape,  which 
would  otherwise  be  stern  and  grim.  Nor 
were  the  glassy  loch  and  the  murmuring 
torrent  wanting  there,  nor  those  passes 
where  the  mountains  approach  each  other, 
and  make  them,  like  that  of  Killiecrankie, 
excel  even  the  famous  Vale  of  Tempe. 

Though  not  very  impressionable  by  Na- 
ture, Holcroft,  influenced  by  the  good 
things  he  was  imbibing,  said  something 
about  the  beauty  of  the  scenerj^,  to  which 
Lord  Aberfeldie  responded,  adding,  with  a 
laugh, 

*  I  do  enjoy  life  in  a  shooting-box,  and 
of  all  the  entrancing  sports  to  me  there  is 
none  like  stalking  the  deer.' 

With  his  sodden  knickerbocker  suit  dry- 
ing slowly  upon  him  in  the  mountain 
wind,  Holcroft  could  only  assent  to  this 
faintly,  and  wished,  perhaps,  that,  like 
Stratherroch,  he  wore  a  kilt,  and  could 
wring  the  water  out  of  the  plaits  thereof. 


26  THE  MASTER  OF  ABEEFELDIE, 

'  Of  old  in  Scotland/  resumed  Lord 
Aberfeldie,  as  he  lit  his  briar-root  pipe, 
'no  man  was  deemed  perfect  in  the  craft 
of  hunting  till  he  had  landed  a  salmon 
from  the  pool,  shot  an  eagle  on  the  wing, 
and  killed  a  stag.  But,  when  here  in  a 
shooting-box,  I  always  thank  heaven  that 
I  am  at  least  fifteen  miles  from  a  telegraph 
wire,  that  letters  can  only  come  once  a 
day,  and  just  before  dinner,  and  bills  and 
lawyers'  letters  seldom  or  never  at  all. 
Have  a  glass  of  something  before  you 
lunch,  Dugald,'  he  said,  addressing  his 
venerable  keeper ;  ^  I  know  you  will  prefer 
Glenlivet  to  all  the  Clicquot  and  Moet  in 
the  world.' 

'A  cless,  thank  you  kindly,  my  lord,' 
replied  Dugald,  touching  his  bonnet, 
*  though  my  mouth  can  hold  more  of  what- 
ever it  be.' 

And,  bowing  to  the  company,  Dugald 
drained  it  in  quick  time. 


HAWKE  HOLCEOFT.  27 

^  I  daresay,  Holcrof  t,'  said  Allan,  '  you 
would  prefer  the  deer  driven  to  being 
stalked  ?' 

'  Infinitely !'  replied  the  other,  as  he 
quaffed  a  bumper  of  sparkling  Moselle. 

'Well,  I  for  one  do  not,'  said  the  Master, 
emphatically. 

'  The  Highlander  of  old  would  follow  a 
stag  for  days,  or  even  for  weeks,  if  neces- 
sary.' observed  Lord  Aberfeldie,  with 
kindling  eyes,  '  sleeping  in  his  plaid  among 
the  heather,  he  would  lie  where  nig^ht 
found  him.  With  his  long  gaff  he  would 
catch  a  salmon  between  the  water  and  the 
sky  ;  but  w^hen  stalking  he  had  no  concep- 
tion of  the  brutal  German  battues  now  so 
common  in  the  Highlands,  and  so  degrad- 
ing to  sport,'  he  added  ;  in  his  energy,  for- 
getting that  there  was  something  of  re- 
buke in  his  remarks,  w^hich  certainly  made 
Holcroft's  cheek  redden  with  annoyance^ 
and  his  rather  shifty  eyes  to  lower. 


28  THE  MASTER  OF  ABEREELDIE. 

The  Master,  aware  tlaat  this  subject  was 
rather  a  hobby  with  his  father,  hastened 
to  change  the  conversation  by  observing, 

'  How  strange  it  seems,  Stratherroch, 
that  you  and  I  should  be  so  suddenly  liere 
after  all  these  past  years  with  the  regi- 
ment— liere  among  the  purple  heather  and 
green  bracken  again.' 

'  And  a  few  weeks  hence  will  see  us 
with  it  again,  and  back  to  the  old  pipe- 
clay routine/  said  Cameron. 

'Regiments  are  now  no  longer  what 
they  were  in  my  time,'  said  Lord  Aber- 
feldie,  a  little  irrelevantly,  perhaps,  but 
pursuing  his  own  ideas.  '  Examinations, 
cramming  and  useless  pedantry,  promotion 
by  selection  and  compulsory  retirement 
for  the  officers,  with  short  service  among 
tlie  men,  render  corps  no  longer  what  they 
were  in  the  old  days,  each  a  happy,  mov- 
able home.  The  time  when  a  young 
officer   often    said,    with   just    pride    and 


HAWKE  HOLCROFT.  29 

noble  ambition,  "My  father  and  my  grand- 
father have  both  commanded  this  regiment, 
and,  please  God,  I  hope  at  some  period  to 
do  the  same,"  can  never  come  again  !  And 
what  Highland  officer  now,  in  the  Black 
Watch  or  any  other  of  our  national  regi- 
ments, is  followed  to  the  colours  by  a  band 
of  his  own  name  and  kindred,  or  can 
speak  of  his  comrades  as  "my  father's 
people/'  or  "  the  men  from  our  glen ;" 
and  yet  such  was  the  case  when  yonder 
ruined  clachan  was  instinct  with  village 
life,  and  the  voices  of  children  were  heard 
around  its  humble  hearths.' 

'  The  hero  of  Ghuznee  had  a  theory  that 
no  Scotsman  was  fitted  to  command  a 
regiment,'  said  Stratherroch,  laughing. 

'  I  know  that  he  detested  Scotsmen,  and 
brought  six  officers,  all  Scotsmen,  to  a 
court-martial ;  and  it  was  then  he  is  said 
to  have  made  the  statement  which  cost 
him  so  dear  in  India.' 


30  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

'  How  ?'  asked  Holcroft. 

'Because,  within  an  hour  after,  old 
Colonel  Wemyss,  of  the  52nd,  paraded 
him  in  rear  of  the  cantonment,  and  planted 
a  bullet  in  his  body  by  way  of  curing  him 
of  prejudice  for  the  future.  Eather  a 
convincing  argument,  old  Wemyss  thought 
it,'  added  Aberfeldie,  laughing,  as  he  knock- 
ed the  ashes  from  his  cherished  briar-root, 
put  it  in  its  case,  and  dropped  it  into  his 
silver-mounted  sporran. 

'  Talking  of  regiments,  I  saw  yours  at 
Portsmouth,  Graham,'  said  Holcroft ;  '  and 
I  thought  the  men  looked  graceful  indeed, 
with  their  kilts  over  their  left  shoulders 
and  their  black  sporrans  waving  above 
their  bronzed  faces.' 

Whether  this  was  meant  as  a  joke  or  a 
sneer,  it  is  impossible  to  say ;  but  his 
hearers  took  it  as  the  former,  and  laughed 
accordingly,  on  which  Holcroft  added, 

'I   mean   their   plaid-shawls  over  their 


HAWKE  HOLCROFT.  31 

shoulders.  I  remember  that  Miss  Ray- 
mond laughed  heartily  when  I  made  the 
same  remark/ 

'  I  don't  wonder  at  that/  said  Lord  Aber- 
feldie.  '  Olive  is  a  girl  who  laughs  on 
very  slight  occasions.' 

'  You  have  not  seen  her  since  your  re- 
turn y  said  Holcroft  to  Allan  Graham. 

'  No ;  but  I  shall  very  soon  now.' 

*  She  is  a  very  handsome  girl ;  what  the 
deuce  have  the  men  been  about  to  leave 
her  all  this  time  Miss  Eaymond  ?' 

'  All  this  time  ?  Why,  she  has  not  yet 
seen  her  twentieth  year,'  exclaimed  Allan, 
with  some  annoyance,  as  he  thought  of  the 
photo. 

*  Her  costumes  are  chic,'  continued  Hol- 
croft, '  chic  to  a  degree  !  How  I  admired 
her  23ortrait  in  the  Grosvenor  Gallery ;  and 
wise  was  the  artist  to  label  it  "Fair  to 
See."' 

Allan  glanced  at  his  father,  and  his  face 


32  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

clouded  to  liear  all  this — praise  though  it 
was — in  the  mouth  of  Hawke  Holcroft. 

^You  have  an  appreciation  of  beauty, 
apparently,'  said  young  Cameron. 

'  Who  has  not  ?  Thus,  as  Disraeli  says, 
"  the  action  of  lovely  woman  on  our 
destiny  is  increasing,"  and,  as  Miss  Ray- 
mond  ' 

'  I  am  Miss  Raymond's  uncle  and  guar- 
dian,' said  Lord  Aberfeldie,  rather  stiffly, 
and  to  Mr.  Holcroft,  as  it  seemed,  a  little 
irrelevantly,  though  cutting  short  what- 
ever he  meant  to  say  ;  for  the  peer  winced 
at  the  way  in  which  his  guest  referred  to 
his  niece  in  the  hearing  of  gillies  and 
gamekeepers,  and,  more  than  all,  in  the 
presence  of  Allan,  whose  dark  eyes  wore 
rather  a  lowering  expression ;  but,  as  all 
had  hearty  appetites  after  their  recent 
exercise  and  long  exposure  in  the  keen, 
bracing  mountain  air  of  an  autumn  day, 
they  were  inclined  to  use  their  knives  and 


HAWKE  HOLCROFT.  33 

forks  rather  than  their  tongues,  and  the 
subject,  however  pleasing  to  Mr.  Holcroft, 
was  dropped. 

The  latter  was  not  a  pleasing  type  of 
Englishman,  though  his  air  and  bearing- 
were  thoroughly  those  of  a  gentleman. 
He  had  a  good  square  figure,  but  his  legs 
were  somewhat  of  the  spindle  order,  as 
his  knickerbocker  suit  revealed.  He  was 
flaxen-haired,  fair-skinned,  and  somewhat 
freckled,  with  a  tawny  moustache  and 
pale  grey  eyes ;  and  strange  it  was  that 
these,  though  weak-looking,  cunning,  and 
shifty,  would  assume  at  times,  but  covert- 
ly, a  defiant,  even  ferocious  expression,  if 
evil  passions  excited  him. 

He  was  almost  destitute  of  eyebrows, 
but  had  a  massive  chin  ;  and  as  Allan  Gra- 
ham regarded  him,  as  he  lay  stretched 
upon  the  grass  leisurely  smoking,  he  by  no 
means  showed  his  father's  sentiment  of 
friendship  for  this  son  of  an   old  friend ; 

VOL.  I.  D 


34  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

and  there  grew  in  his  breast  a  mysterious 
instinct  —  almost  a  presentiment  —  that 
Holcroft  would  in  some  way  or  other  bring 
trouble  upon  them  conjunctly  or  severally. 

After  the  keepers  and  gillies  had  their 
repast,  the  luncheon  apparatus  was  pack- 
ed up,  and,  shouldering  their  rifles,  the 
party  set  out  for  the  shooting-box,  which 
was  situated  in  a  pretty  glen  a  few  miles 
distant. 

Angus,  who  was — as  his  father  boasted 
— strong  as  Cuchullin,  again  lifted  the 
deer  to  the  pony's  back,  and  preceded  by 
the  family  piper,  Ronald  Gair,  with  his 
pipes  in  full  blast  to  the  air  of  '  The 
Birks  of  Aberfeldie/  they  departed  down 
the  winding  path  towards  the  dark  blue 
loch  that  lay  at  the  foot  of  the  solemn, 
pine-clad  hills. 

Like  the  gillies  and  keepers,  Ronald 
was  never  seen  without  a  sprig  of  the 
Buaidh  craoh  na  Laihhreis  (the  laurel-tree 


HAWKE  HOLCROFT.  35 

of  victory),  the  badge  of  the   Grahams,  in 
his  bonnet. 

Ronald  Gair's  locks  were  silver  now, 
but  they  had  been  dark  enough  when  he 
played  the  Black  Watch  up  the  green  slopes 
of  the  Alma,  through  all  Central  India,  to 
the  gates  of  Lucknow,  and  in  later  times 
to  the  corpse-encumbered  swamps  of 
Coomassie. 

Holcroft  winced  at  what  he  deemed  the 
dissonance  of  the  pipes,  and  cursed  their 
sound  in  his  heart ;  but  he  was  too  well- 
bred  or  too  prudent  to  say  anything  on 
the  subject  as  he  strode  by  Cameron's 
side  down  the  strath,  with  a  huge  regalia 
between  his  teeth.  Indeed,  he  might  have 
been  pretty  well  used  to  their  sound  by 
this  time,  as  Ronald  Gair  roused  the  house- 
hold with  them  in  the  morning,  preceded 
many  a  meal — dinner  always — and  seemed 
to  spend  most  of  his  time  in  incessant 
'  tuning  up '  between. 

d2 


36  THE  MASTER  OE  ABERFELDIE. 

^  I  have  a  suspicion  that  lie  is  bad  form,, 
this  Holcroft,'  said  Allan  to  his  father,  as 
they  could  converse,  unheard  by  the  other 
two,  amid  the  din  of  the  pipes,  which  Ronald 
blew  as  if  to  wake  the  Seven  Sleepers  of 
Ephesus,  or  Holgar  Danske  in  his  cavern 
at  Elsinore.  *  I  have  heard  that  he  half 
lives  on  play  and  his  betting-book,  and  that 
his  little  place  in  Essex,  or  rather  what 
remains  of  it,  is  dipped  over  head  and  ears. 
Indeed,  he  admitted  jocularly  to  Cameron 
that  it  was  mortgaged  for  thrice  its  value, 
three  times  over,  a  fact  which  would 
teach  the  holders  prudence  for  the  future. 
Why  did  you  have  him  here  or  at  Dun- 
d  argue  ?' 

*  Well — his  father  and  I  were  old 
friends,  as  you  know ;  his  father,  in  fact, 
by  an  act  of  great  bravery,  saved  my  life 
at  the  Alma,  when  three  Russians  were  at 
the  point  of  bayoneting  me,  as  I  lay  help- 
less on  the  field  ;  so  you  see,  Allan,  I  can- 


HAWKE  HOLCROFT.  37 

not  help  being  at  least  hospitable  to  the 
poor  fellow,  and  certainly  his  friend.' 

Indeed,  Lord  Aberfeldie  had  always  been 
the  latter  to  Holcroft,  and  not  seldom  his 
*  banker  /  but  of  this  Allan  knew  nothing, 
nor  was  ever  likely  to  know,  so  far  as  his 
father  was  concerned. 

'  He  seems  to  consider  Olive  an  heiress,' 
said  Allan,  after  a  pause. 

'  As — of  course — she  is.' 

*  And  he  dared  to  speak  of  her  under 
the  slangy  name  of  "  cash  "  to  Stratherroch, 
as  I,  by  chance,  overheard.' 

Lord  Aberfeldie  knitted  his  dark  brows, 
and  said, 

'  I  detest  slang — it  is  deuced  bad  form  ; 
but  Holcroft  belongs,  I  know,  to  a  horsey 
set; 

The  sun  was  setting  now,  and  gradually 
his  crimson  glory  was  paling  in  fire  on  the 
hill  tops,  till  it  faded  out  and  died  away, 
and  the  shadows  of  the   September  night 


38  THE  MASTEE  OF  ABEEFELDIE. 

crept  upward  step  by  step  from  the 
deep  glens  below,  and  one  by  one  the  stars 
came  out  above  the  trees — a  sea  of  dark 
and  solemn  pines  that  covered  all  the 
mountain  slopes — and  ere  long  the  red 
lights  from  the  curtained  windows  of  the 
luxurious  shooting-lodge  were  seen  to  cast 
long  lines  of  wavering  radiance  across  the 
bosom  of  the  loch,  by  the  margin  of  which 
it  stood. 

Ere  this,  the  great  greyhound  Shiuloch 
(whose  name  means  speed)  had  returned, 
drenched  with  water  (showing  that  he  had 
pursued  the  stag  into  some  distant  loch) 
and  bloody  with  more  than  one  wound  in- 
flicted by  antlers. 

The  sharp-set  hunters  had  dined  luxuri- 
ously, and  cigars  with  brandy  and  soda 
had  become  the  order  of  the  night,  when 
the  Master  said  to  his  father, 

'  I  think  I  have  had  enough  of  deer- 
stalking— three    weeks    nearly — and     to- 


HAWKE  HOLCROFT.  39 

morrow    I    shall    start    for    Dunclargue/ 

'  I  think  you  are  wise  to  do  so,'  replied 
Lord  Aberfeldie,  with  a  pointed  glance. 

'  Sorry  to  lose  you,  Graham,'  said  Hol- 
croft,  concealing  under  a  bright  smile  his 
secret  annoyance,  envy,  and  alarm,  of  all 
which  more  anon. 

In  this  sudden  resolution  Allan  Graham 
was  influenced,  perhaps,  by  some  remarks 
of  his  father,  the  viscount,  and  pique  at 
those  of  Hawke  Holcroft,  together  with  a 
natural  longing  to  see  his  mother  and 
sister,  and  a  growing  consciousness  that  he 
had  been  somewhat  remiss  and,  to  say  the 
least  of  it,  ungallant  to  his  cousin.  Thus, 
next  day,  he  took  his  departure  for  Dun- 
dargue ;  but  he  could  little  foresee  all  the 
bitter  complications  that  were  to  arise,  and 
to  culminate  in  the  future,  through  his 
merely  lingering  to  stalk  deer  in  his  father's 
forest. 

When  he  went  off,  none  shook  his  hand 


40  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

more  warmly  than  Hawke  Holcroft,  thougli 
tlie  latter  muttered  under  his  breath, 

'Fool  that  I  was,  not  to  make  my 
innings  before  this  fellow  came ;  but  if 
some  people  could  be  put  out  of  the  way, 
that  others  might  take  their  place,  how 
much  pleasanter  this  world  would  be — to 
other  people,  at  least.' 

Little  did  the  family  of  Aberfeldie  know 
that  in  Hawke  Holcroft  they  had  among 
them  an  unscrupulous  adventurer  and  most 
dangerous  guest ! 


41 


.    CHAPTER  III. 

UNCLE    EAYMONd's  WILL. 

^  Marriage,  indeed  !'  exclaimed  Olive  Ray- 
mond, 'it  will  be  time  enough  to  speak  of 
that  when  this  'haggard  in  love,"  your 
brother,  turns  up  here  at  Dundargue.  Be- 
sides, all  women  don't  marry,  so  why 
should  I  ?' 

*Most  pretty  ones  do,  and  marry  you 
must  !'  replied,  with  a  merry  little  laugh, 
Eveline  Graham,  the  sole  daughter  of  the 
house  of  Aberfeldie,  to  her  English  cousin, 
as  she  usually  called  her. 

'  Such  stuff  all  this  is  !  Does  not  the 
author  of  "The  Red  Rag"  say  that  ''if 


42  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

there  is  a  circumstance  calculated  to  breed 
mutual  detestation  in  the  minds  of  two 
young  people,  it  is  the  knowledge  that 
their  respective  parents  have  destined  them 
for  each  other !"  ' 

'  How  readily  you  quote,'  said  Eveline. 

'  Because  I  have  the  subject  at  heart/ 

They  were  posed  like  a  couple  of  Du 
Manner's  fashionable  girls,  and  were 
leisurely  sipping  afternoon  tea  at  a  pretty 
Chippendale  table  from  an  exquisite 
"Wedgwood  service,  and,  for  freedom  to 
gossip,  had  dispensed  with  all  attendance. 

Both  the  cousins  were  handsome  girls, 
whose  bearded,  belted,  and  corsletted  an- 
cestors— portraits  of  whom  hung  on  the 
walls,  and  who  had  often 

*  Carved  at  the  meal  with  gloves  of  steel,' 
in  that  same  Castle  of  Dundargue — would 
have  regarded  such  a  repast  and  such  a 
beverage  as  '  afternoon  tea '  with  no  small 
wonder,  and,  perhaps,  disgust. 


UNCLE  EAYMONd's  WILL.  43 

Eveline  Graham  was  very  softly  featur- 
ed and  slender  in  figure ;  but  Olive  Eay- 
mond,  who  was  the  taller  of  the  two,  was 
more  fully  developed,  yet  looked  slim  as  a 
Greek  goddess  in  a  dress  of  deep  blue  that 
became  her  pure  complexion  and  rich 
brown  hair,  with  only  a  tiny  bouquet  of 
white  flowers  in  the  brooch  at  her  bosom, 
and  a  multitude  of  silver  bangles — emblems 
of  conquest,  perhaps — like  silver  fetters, 
on  her  slender  and  snowy  wrists.  She 
was  fair  and  colourless,  with  dark  grey 
violet  eyes  that  looked  black  under  their 
jetty  fringes  at  night. 

Eveline  was  more  dazzlingly  fair,  but 
more  loetite^  with  soft,  hazel  eyes,  and 
bright,  brown  hair  that  was  shot  with 
gold.  She  had  exquisite  hands  and  feet, 
and  though  petite,  as  we  say,  and  slender, 
she  had  a  peculiar  grace  and  dignity  of 
manner  that  only  required  a  brocade-dress, 
ruff,  and  lonsf  stomacher  to  make  her  like 


44  THE  MASTEE  OF  ABERPELDIE. 

one  of  Iier  stately  'forbears,'  wTiose  por- 
traits by  Jameson  were  in  the  room  in 
which  she  sat — a  modern  portion  of  the 
grim  old  Castle  of  Dundargue,  the  aspect 
and  construction  of  which  edifice  were 
very  different  from  those  of  the  additions 
that  had  been  made  to  it  in  later  times. 

And  as  the  girls  sit  there,  in  the  tem- 
pered light  of  the  afternoon  sun  streaming 
through  the  French  windows  that  open  to 
a  stately  balustraded  terrace,  and  sip  their 
tea  leisurely,  their  conversation  will  throw 
some  light  upon  the  past,  and  perhaps  the 
future,  of  certain  of  our  dramatis  per^sonce. 

'  When  Allan  returns — '  began  Eveline. 

'  Oh,  don't  talk  to  me  again  of  Allan !' 
interrupted  Olive  Raymond,  with  a  petu- 
lant toss  of  her  pretty  head,  '  or  I  will 
begin  to  tease  you  about  Stratherroch.' 

'  How  ?'  asked  Eveline,  colouring  per- 
ceptibly. 

*  He  loves  you — and  you  know  he  does.* 


UNCLE  EATMONd's  WILL.  45 

*  Yes,'  said  Eveline,  as  a  soffc  smile  stole 
over  her  mignonne  face  ;  ^  I  cannot  doubt 
it,  though  no  word  from  which  I  could 
infer  it  has  ever  escaped  his  lips ;  but 
poor  Cameron  has  little  more  than  his  paj. 
His  paternal  acres  are  mortgaged  to  the 
full — even  the  shootings  and  fishings,  I 
believe,  don't  come  to  him.  I  heard 
papa  express  to  mamma  his  surprise  that 
Cameron  could  "  pull  through,'*  as  he 
phrased  it ;  that  he  would  have  no  in- 
eligibles  in  future  dangling  about  me, 
and  that — as  I  have  nothing — I  must 
marry  money!  That  was  the  word — oh, 
how  selfish  it  sounds,  and  how  hateful !' 
added  the  girl,  while  her  rosy  little  nether 
lip  quivered.  'Poor  Evan!'  she  murmur- 
ed, dreamily;  and  as  she  uttered  his 
name  her  voice,  which  was  soft  even  as 
Cordelia's,  became  like  that  of  Annie 
Laurie,  '  low  and  sweet.' 

'  Ineligibles  !'  said  her  cousin  ;  ^  and  yet 


46  THE  MASTER  OP  ABERFELDIB. 

he  invited  here  Mr.  Holcroft,  who  is  well- 
nigh  penniless,  and  against  whose  atten- 
tions Aunt  Aberfeldie  specially  warned 
me.' 

*In  the  interests  of  Allan,  of  course/ 

*  Allan — absurd !'  exclaimed  Olive,  shrug- 
ging her  handsome  shoulders.  *  You  all 
seem  to  forget  that  he  can  only  remember 
me  as  a  little  girl.' 

'  Still  you  are  his  fiancee' 

*  In  a  manner  of  way.' 

*  Distinctly  so,  if  the  tenor  of  your  papa's 
will  is  to  be  observed.' 

'  Then  I  think  he  might  have  had  some 
curiosity  about  me,  instead  of  spending 
days  at  that  stupid  deer-forest.  For  all 
he  knows,  I  might  have  been  a  veritable 
fright !'  added  Olive,  with  growing  pique, 
as  she  glanced  at  the  reflection  of  her  own 
beautiful  self  in  an  adjacent  console-mirror. 
'  If  he  thinks  that,  as  Master  of  Aber- 
feldie, he  has  only  to  come  and  see,  and 


UNCLE  EATMONd's  WILL.  47 

conquer,  I  shall  teach  him  that  he  is  very 
much  mistaken.' 

'  Olive — how  can  you  talk  thus  ?'  ex- 
postulated soft  little  Eveline  ;  '  his  delay 
is  probably  all  papa's  fault.' 

'  I  am  sure  that  I  shall  hate  him  then  !' 

*  Query  ?'  said  Eveline,  with  a  saucy 
smile  on  her  lovely  lips. 

'  There  is  no  query  in  this  case,'  per- 
sisted Olive,  as  she  set  down  her  cup  with 
a  jerk  ;  for  in  her  spirit  of  freedom  there 
was  at  times  a  curious  but  unexpressed 
antagonism  in  her  heart  to  the  family  of 
Aberfeldie,  as  if  she  felt  herself  somewhat 
in  their  power,  and  even  to  her  own  dis- 
advantage, and  this  spirit,  which  Holcroft 
was  not  slow  to  discover,  had  rather  en- 
couraged his  hopes. 

'He  will  be  sure  to  love  you,  at  all 
events,  Olive  dear,  if  he  has  any  sense  or 
power  of  observation  at  all — you  are  so 
pretty« — nay,  so  charming.' 


48  THE  MASTER  OF  ABEREELDIE. 

*  Any  fool  may  love  a  pretty  face,  and 
generally  does  so.' 

*  But  you  possess  much  more  than  a 
pretty  face,  Olive.' 

'  Yes — the  fortune  which  I  am  to 
share  with  him  ere  my  twenty-fifth  year.' 

*  Or,  if  you  refuse ' 

'  One  half  of  it  goes  to  him,  and  the 
other,  or  nearly  so,  to  charitable  institu- 
tions,' exclaimed  Olive,  her  sweet  face 
paling  with  absolute  anger. 

'  He  will  love  you  for  yourself  alone,  I 
am  assured,'  persisted  Eveline,  in  defence 
of  her  brother.  '  You  are  beautiful,  Cousin 
Olive;  you  ride,  row,  dance,  play  lawn- 
tennis,  and  flirt  to  perfection.  Are  not  all 
these  qualities  calculated  to  excite  admira- 
tion in  a  young  ofiicer;  and  then,  more 
than  all,  you  have  such  dear,  funny  ways 
with  you.'  And  the  warm-hearted  girl  con- 
cluded by  laughing  and  kissing  her  cousin 
on  both  cheeks  effusively. 


UNCLE  Raymond's  will.  49 

The  tenor  of  this  remarkable  will, 
which  has  been  referred  to  more  than 
once,  was,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  peculiar. 

Some  years  before  this  period,  Olive 
Raymond  arrived  at  Dundarg'ue  an  orphan^ 
left  in  charge  of  Lord  Aberfeldie — the 
child  of  his  only  sister,  Muriel  Graham, 
who  had  married  a  Mr.  Raymond,  a  poor 
man^  whom  means  furnished  by  the  Aber- 
feldie family  enabled  to  become  one  of  the 
wealthiest  planters  in  Jamaica.  Both  her 
parents  had  died  early,  and  after  her  loca- 
tion at  Dundargue  she  became  a  species  of 
sister  to  Eveline  and  Allan  Graham. 

Happy,  indeed,  was  Olive  alike  in  her 
Scottish  home  in  the  lovely  Carse  of  Gow- 
rie,  and  when  the  family  took  up  their 
abode,  accordino^  to  the  season  or  the 
sitting  of  Parliament,  at  their  West-end 
residence  in  London. 

By  will,  Mr.  Oliver  Raymond  left  his 
entire  fortune,   which  was  very    consider- 

VOL.  I.  E 


hO  THE  xMASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

able,  to  his  daughter ;  but,  in  gratitude  to 
the  family  of  his  wife,  on  the  strange  con- 
dition that  she  was  to  marry  his  nephew, 
Allan  Graham,  whose  death  alone  was  to 
free  her  from  that  contingency.  If  she 
unreasonably  refused,  then,  in  that  case, 
after  her  twenty-fifth  year,  she  was  to  for- 
feit all  that  would  accrue  to  her,  save  a 
very  slender  allowance — the  share  so  for- 
feited to  become  the  inheritance  of  her 
cousin  Allan  ;  and  if  he  declined  to  wed  his 
cousin  Olive,  then,  in  that  case,  the  money 
so  forfeited  was  to  go  to  such  Scottish 
charitable  institutions  as  Lord  Aberfeldie 
and  the  other  trustees  might  select. 

This  will  was,  undoubtedly,  a  strange 
one ;  but  then  Mr.  Eaymond  had  been  a 
strange  and  eccentric  man,  animated  by 
an  intense  regard  and  esteem  for  the 
family  of  his  deceased  wife,  the  Grahams 
of  Aberfeldie,  to  whom  he  felt  all  his  good 
fortune  had  been  due. 


UNCLE  Raymond's  will.  51 

As  children,  the  tenor  of  this  tj-rannical 
•will  in  no  way   affected   the    relations    of 
Olive  and  Allan  with  each  other ;    and  the 
latter — a   manly  and    sturdy  lad,    when  at 
home    from   the    College    of   Glenalmond, 
where   he  pursued   his   studies   and   culti- 
vated cricket,  boxing,  and  football — petted 
and    made    much    of   the   violet-eved   and 
brown-haired  little  cousin,  who  had  dropped 
among  them   as  if  from  the  clouds ;    but 
after  he  had  joined  the  Black  TVatch  as  a 
subaltern,  and  years   passed  on,   and  they 
began  to  be  talked  of  and  deemed   in  the 
family    circle   as  an   engaged  couple,    be- 
trothed,  affianced,    and   all  the  rest  of  it, 
the  young  beauty  and  heiress  began  to  re- 
sent   the    terms  of  the  will  bitterly,  per- 
haps not  unreasonably ;  she  became,  as  we 
have  said,  antagonistic,  and  was  perplexed 
to  think   that    her  father   could  not  have 
foreseen   some  difficulties   on  the  part  of 
his  two  legatees. 

e2 


52  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

Thus,  as  they  both  grew  older,  she 
seldom  replied  to  the  letters  which  Allan 
wrote  to  her,  by  his  parents'  desire,  per- 
haps, rather  than  his  owd,  till  he  ceased  to 
write  to  her  at  all,  on  which  she  became 
severely  piqued  ;  and  once  when  she  was 
a  little  way  on  in  her  '  teens,'  and  when 
Allan  was  at  home  for  a  very  brief  period 
before  departing  to  India,  she  treated 
him  with  an  indifference — almost  animosity 
— that  made  him  deem  the  girl  wayward, 
cold-hearted,  even  purse-proud,  and  every- 
thing unpleasant ;  and  with  this  fatal  im- 
pression he  rejoined  the  Black  Watch,  and 
amid  many  a  flirtation  might  soon  have 
forgotten  the  heiress  that  was  growing  up 
for  him  at  Dundargue,  but  for  the  letters 
he  received  from  thence,  and  in  which 
ample  references  to  her  and  her  beauty 
and  accomplishments  were  never  omitted  ; 
while  she,  on  the  other  hand,  when  she 
became   of    a    marriasfeable    agfe,    seldom 


UNCLE  EAYMONd's  WILL.  53 

ceased  to  stio^matise  the  will  as  outragfe- 
ous,  indelicate,  grotesque,  and  unjust. 
And  now  that  her  cousin  Allan  was  comino 
home — nay,  had  come  home — for  a  pro- 
tracted period  on  leave  of  absence,  she  felt 
that  a  crisis  was  at  hand  in  her  fate — a 
crisis  in  which  she,  like  a  hunted  creature, 
knew  not  how  to  escape. 

'  Yes,  Allan  will  soon  learn  to  love  you 
for  your  own  sake,'  returned  the  gentle 
Eveline,  after  a  pause. 

*  How  can  I  ever  be  certain  of  that  ? 
Oh,  I  owe  little  indeed  to  papa,  who  by 
such  a  will  as  his  seeks  to  degrade  both 
your  brother  and  myself,'  replied  Olive. 

'  Degrade  !'  exclaimed  Eveline,  her  hazel 
eyes  distending. 

'  Yes — by  forcing  us  into  a  marriage  on 
one  hand,  or  to  accepting  starvation  on  the 
other.' 

'  Starvation  !— such  strong  language, 
Olive,'  said  Eveline,  in  a  tone  of  rebuke. 


54  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

Of  the  allegerl  tie  that  bound  her  to 
Allan  Graham,  and  of  the  latter  himself, 
personally,  she  had  never  thought  so  seri- 
ously as  she  had  done  of  late;  and,  truth 
to  tell,  in  the  opportunities  afforded  by 
mutual  residence  in  a  country  house — that 
great  rambling  castle  especially — Mr. 
Hawke  Holcroft,  by  his  subtle  attentions 
when  no  one  else  was  near,  had  begun  to 
interest  her  more  than  Lord  or  Lady  Aber- 
feldie  could  have  relished  or  conceived  ; 
and  to  her  it  seemed  that  for  some  time 
back  at  Dundargue  (continuing  a  senti- 
ment he  had  striven  to  rouse  during  a 
past  season  in  London)  his  eyes  had  been 
telling  in  imploring  and  passionate  glances 
what  his  lips  had  not  yet  the  audacity  to 
utter ;  but  then  the  girl  was  young,  enthu- 
siastic, impressionable,  and  far  from  insen- 
sible to  admiration  and  flattery. 

Though  she  did  nob  and  could  not  regard 
Allan    Graham  as   a  lover,   and    disliked 


UNCLE  rwVYMOND's  WILL.  55 

thus  to  view  him  in  the  light  of  her  in- 
tended husband,  circumstances  now  com- 
pelled her  to  tliinh  of  him  ;  and  though  she 
remembered  him  chiefly  as  the  playmate 
of  her  childhood,  she  was  piqued  that  he 
seemed  in  no  haste  to  meet  and  see  her, 
but  instead  had  openly  manifested,  as  she 
thought,  indifference  and  lack  of  interest 
or  curiosity,  by  shooting  at  Aberfeldie  Lodge 
for  days. 

Thus  pique  made  her  not  indisposed  to 
encourage  the  attention  of  others,  espe- 
cially of  Hawke  Holcroft,  as  we  shall  show, 
when  he  returned  to  Dundargue  before  his 
departure  for  London. 

Olive  Raymond  in  her  pride  of  heart 
bitterly  resented  the  tenor  of  her  father's 
will.  She  knew  that  by  the  chances  of 
war,  climate,  and  foreign  service  generally, 
she  might  never  have  seen  her  cousin 
again ;  but  now  the  inevitable  seemed  at 
hand,  and   she  felt  herself  in  a  measure 


i)Q  THE  MASTER  OF  ABEEFELDIE. 

set  apart  for  him  as  fairly  as  if  she  had 
personally  betrothed  herself  ;  but  was  she 
to  be  bound,  while  he  was  absolutely  free  ? 
And  stories  she  had  heard — some  of  them 
artfully  and  casually  dropped  by  Holcroft 
— of  more  than  one  flirtation  at  Chatham 
and  elsewhere,  added  to  the  pique  in  which 
she  was  indulging. 

Lady  Aberfeldie  now  came  in  through 
one  of  the  open  French  windows  for  her 
cup  of  afternoon  tea,  with  a  bright  scarlet 
shawl  looseljT'  floating  over  her  handsome 
head  and  shapely  shoulders,  quitting  the 
terrace,  where  she  had  been  amusing  her- 
self by  feeding  the  peacocks. 

She  was  looking  unusually  radiant  as 
she  announced  that  Angus,  the  young 
keeper,  had  just  come  from  the  shooting 
lodge  to  inform  her  that  the  Master  would 
be  home  that  afternoon,  and  that  liis 
rooms  must  be  put  in  order  for  him  with- 
out delay. 


UNCLE  Raymond's  will.  57 

So,  on  bearing  this,  the  wilful  Olive  re- 
solved to  pa}^  a  protracted  visit  elsewhere, 
and  to  be  absent  when  he  did  arrive. 

'No  woman  understood  the  art  of  dress- 
ing better  than  Ladj  Aberfeldie,  and  well 
was  she  aware  how  truly  a  dainty  maize  or 
a  coral  colour  with  rich  black  lace  trim- 
mings became  her  brunette  tints,  her  dark 
hair  and  eyes,  her  pure,  yet  slightly  olive 
complexion.  Her  whole  air  was  graceful 
and  queenly,  as  befitted  one  who  was  al- 
ways to  '  walk  in  silk  attire.' 

Lady  Aberfeldie  never  forgot  that  she 
had  been  the  belle  of  three  seasons  in  Bel- 
gravia,  and  an  heiress  to  the  boot,  though 
the  memories  of  others  might  be  less 
retentive  ;  and  now,  in  her  fortieth  year, 
she  was  a  very  handsome  blooming  woman 
still. 

'  We  must  have  some  dinners  and  no 
end  of  dances  and  lawn-tennis  parties, 
mamma,  in  honour  of   Allan's  return,'  said 


58  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

Eveline,    as    she   assisted   her   mother   to 
tea. 

'  Thank  God,  my  dear  boy  is  home — 
home  again — and  safe  at  last — after  all  he 
has  faced  and  undergone/  said  Lady  Aber- 
feldie,  with  a  bright  and  fond  expression 
in  her  fine  face.  '  Why,  it  seems  but  yes- 
terday, Olive,  that  you  and  he  were  little 
chits  playing  together  on  the  lawn  or  at 
Nannie's  knee — when  you  had  rag  dolls, 
and  used  to  sing  together  of  the  old  wo- 
man that  lived  in  a  shoe,  or  "  High  upon 
Highlands  and  low  upon  Tay,"  or  of 

"Alexander,  King  of  Macedon, 
Who  conquered  the  world  but  Scotland  alone  ; 
When  he  came  to  Scotland  his  courage  grew  cold, 
To  find  a  little  nation  courageous  and  bold, 
So  stout  and  so  bold — " 

You  remember  the  nursery  song,  Olive  ?' 

'  I  have  forgotten  it,  aunt.' 

*  Then  I  hope  you  will  remember  in  its 
place  the  adage ' 


uxcLE  Raymond's  will.  5^ 

^"What  adao^e?'  interrupted  Olive  sharply. 

'  That  a  good,  son  makes  a  good  hus- 
band,' said  Lady  Aberfeldie,  archly,  and 
laughing  as  she  tapped  her  niece's  soft 
cheek  with  her  teaspoon. 

*  Adages  are  not  to  my  taste,  aunt.' 

'  Child,  what  makes  you  seem  so  cross 
to-day?' 

'  The  weather,  perhaps,'  suggested  Eve- 
line. 

But  Olive,  who  had  rather  a  mutinous 
,  expression  in  her  soft  face,  remained 
silent. 

'  This  is  bad  form  in  our  day  of  joy,^ 
said  Lady  Aberfeldie,  who  had  been  eyeing 
her  closely.  *  In  society  well-bred  people 
always  control  their  emotions — their  feel- 
ings.' 

'  Easy  enough  for  them,  aunt,' 

'How?' 

'  Because  they  have  seldom  any  feelings 
to  control.' 


60  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

And  to  prevent  more  being  said  with 
reference  to  Allan — a  subject  she  dreaded 
—  Olive  Raymond  withdrew. 


61 


CHAPTER  lY. 

THE  GRAHAMS  OF  DUXDARGUE. 

Who  would  have  imagined  that  within  a 
few  3^ards  of  the  elegant  and  stately 
modern  drawing-room  in  which  these  three 
handsome  women  of  the  best  style  were 
chatting  and  sipping  their  tea,  there  still 
existed  within  the  old  walls  of  Dundargue 
a  hideous  oubliette  or  bottle  dungeon,  like 
those  that  were  in  the  Castle  of  St.  An- 
drews and  ancient  peel  of  Linlithgow — so 
named  from  the  French  word  to  '  forget.' 

Shaped  like  a  bottle,  it  was— and  is — > 
totally  dark  and  of  great  depth,  with  no 
outlet   but   its    narrow    mouth,    through 


62  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

wliicli  prisoners  were  precipitated  and  left 
to  die.  '  Dante/  says  Victor  Hugo,  when 
describing  that  in  the  Bastille,  '  could  find 
nothing  better  for  the  construction  of  his 
hell.  These  dungeon-funnels  usually 
terminated  in  a  deep  hole  like  a  tub,  in 
which  Dante  has  placed  his  Satan,  and  in 
which  society  placed  the  criminal  condemn- 
ed to  death.  "When  once  a  miserable 
human  being  was  interred  there — farewell 
light,  air,  life,  and  hope !  It  never  went 
out  but  to  the  gibbet  or  the  stake.  Some- 
times it  was  left  to  rot  there,  and  human 
justice  called  that  forgetting.  Between 
mankind  and  himself  the  condemned  felt 
an  accumulation  of  stones  and  jailers, 
and  the  whole  prison  was  but  one  enor- 
mous and  complicated  lock  that  barred 
him  out  of  the  living  world.' 

From  such  places  the  shrieks  and  wails 
of  despair  and  death — death  from  thirst 
and  hunger —never  reach  the  upper  air. 


THE  GRAHAMS  OF  DUiND ARGUE.      63 

When  the  oubliette  of  Dundargue  was 
examined  a  few  years  ago  there  was  found 
in  it  a  mass  of  unctuous-lookins^  mould 
that  made  those  shudder  who  looked  upon 
it.  It  was  full  of  skulls  and  human  bones. 
Of  whom  those  beings  had  been  even 
tradition  was  silent;  but,  as  some  coins 
of  Edward  I.  of  England  were  found 
among  the  ghastly  remains,  they  were 
supposed  to  have  been  certain  English 
prisoners  or  fugitives,  who,  when  flying 
from  the  siege  of  Perth,  had  fallen  into 
the  hands  of  Sir  Malise  Graham  of  Dun- 
dargue, in  the  Carse  of  Gowrie,  a  relent- 
less enemy  of  the  invaders  of  his  country, 
who  said,  grimly,  ^  A  few  Englishmen  less 
in  the  world  would  make  the  world  all  the 
better,'  and,  dropping  them  successively 
into  the  oubliette,  placed  a  huge  stone 
over  the  mouth  of  it,  and  '  forgot '  all 
about  them. 

Erom  a  short  distance  beyond  Dundee, 


64  THE  MASTER  OF  ABEEFELDIE. 

called  '  The  Beautiful '  in  the  days  of  old, 
the  lovely  and  fertile  Carse  of  Gowrie,  so 
famed  in  Scottish  song,  stretches  far  west- 
ward, bounded  by  the  Firth  of  Tay  on 
the  south,  and  a  line  of  undulating  hills 
on  the  north,  till  it  narrows  to  a  vale 
among  the  rocky  eminences  that  overlook 
the  fair  city  of  Perth. 

The  Carse  is  not  quite  a  dead  level, 
for  here  and  there  slope  up  wooded  or 
cultivated  elevations,  named  Inches,  serv- 
ing to  show  that  in  the  ages  they  won 
their  name  the  Carse  had  been  a  wide, 
open  lake  ;  but  above  one  of  these  inches 
towers  the  abrupt,  though  not  very  lofty, 
rock  crowned  by  the  Castle  of  Dundargue, 
an  edifice  on  which  the  surrounding  hills 
have  looked  down  for  centuries. 

Bronze  or  iron  rings,  to  which  the 
Eomans  are  said  to  have  moored  their 
galleys,  were  lately  to  be  seen  in  the 
rock  of  Dundargue,  and  cables  have  been 


THE  GRAHAMS  OF  DUNDAEGUE.      65 

found  at  the  foot  of  the  Sidlaw  Hills, 
relics  of  the  time  when  an  inland  sea 
rolled  its  waves  against  their  now  grassy 
slopes. 

The  original  castle,  or  strong  square 
tower,  starts  flush  from  the  edge  of  the 
rock,  out  of  which  its  oubliette  and  lower 
vaults  are  hollowed,  standing  clear  and 
minute  against  the  sky,  and  its  machi- 
colated  battlements  rise  high  above  the 
more  florid  modern  additions  of  the  days 
of  James  VI.  and  Queen  Anne. 

From  its  stone  bartizan  can  be  seen  the 
sweep  of  the  broad,  blue  Firth  of  Tay, 
with  its  vessels,  the  varied  surface  of  the 
beautiful  Carse  of  Gowrie  clothed  with 
leafy  timber,  narrow  stripes  of  sand-edged 
land,  and  long  stretches  of  cultivated 
ground,  studded  with  curious  old  orchards 
and  ancient  and  hoary  forests  of  dwarf 
oak ;  and  on  the  north  and  west  the  glori- 
ous blue  mountains,  piled  over  each  other 

VOL.  I.  F 


66  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

in  ranges,  and  capped,  afar  off,  by  the 
historic  Grampians. 

The  earliest  portion  of  the  edifice  is 
said  to  have  been  built  by  Sir  Malise  Gra- 
ham, and  possesses  the  battlemented  bar- 
tizan, which  was  a  decided  feature  in  the 
architecture  of  Scotland  long  before  her 
intimate  connection  with  the  Continent ; 
and  the  tenures  of  many  houses  in  the 
vicinity  are  still  held  by  owners  who,  if 
the}^  had  to  fulfil  the  original  obligations, 
would  be  compelled  to  bring  to  the  castle 
coal  for  its  fires,  beer  and  beef  for  its 
tables,  and  oats  for  the  chargers  of  the 
men-at-arms,  with  cords  to  bind  and  hang 
prisoners  condemned  to  the  dule-tree. 

The  Grahams,  Yiscounts  of  Aberfeldie 
and  Barons  of  Dundargue  in  the  peerage 
of  Scotland,  had  the  barony  bestowed  on 
them  in  1600,  in  consequence  of  the 
bravery  of  the  then  laird  at  the  battle 
of   Benrinnes,   six  years   before,  and   the 


THE  GEAHAMS  OP  DUNDAEGUE.      67 

viscounty  in  1648,  for  doughty  deeds  done 
in  the  wars  of  the  Covenant ;  but  they 
had  been  lairds  of  Dundargue  in  days  that 
•were  remote  indeed — the  days  of  that 
Graham  who,  when  expiring  of  a  mortal 
wound  on  the  field  of  Dunbar,  gave  his 
sword — the  same  w^eapon  now  preserved 
in  the  house  of  Montrose — to  his  son, 
^  the  Graham  '  of  future  battles,  '  the  Richt 
Hand  of  Wallace,'  in  whose  arms  he  ex- 
pired of  a  wound,  after  the  battle  of  Fal- 
kirk, leaving  the  patronymic  of  '  gallant ' 
to  all  his  descendants. 

In  one  apartment  hung  with  Gobelin 
tapestry  stood  a  bed  wherein  Charles  II. 
had  reposed  before  his  coronation  at  Scone; 
and  another  had  been  occupied  by  his 
nephew,  James  YIII.,  of  the  Scottish  Jaco- 
bites, before  he  went  to  visit  Castle  Lyon, 
the  guest  of  John,  Lord  Aberfeldie,  who 
declined  to  sit  in  the  Union  Parliament, 
and  who,  to  the  end  of  his  days,  even  w^hen 

f2 


68  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

George  III.  was  king,  was  wont  to  assert 
*  that  green  peas  and  the  other  edibles 
were  always  a  month  later,  after  that  vile 
and  degrading  incorporation,'  and  that 
many  a  sweet  flower  never  blossomed 
again  after  the  White  Rose  was  destroyed 
at  Culloden. 

In  right  of  gift  to  an  ancestor,  the 
present  peer  was  Hereditary  Keeper  of 
the  Royal  Palace  of  Falkland,  and  as  such 
wore  a  key  and  chain  of  silver  at  his  neck 
on  collar  days  at  Windsor  and  elsewhere. 

It  was  a  September  afternoon — almost 
evening — when  the  pastures  had  become 
parched,  the  foliage  shrivelled  and  of  vari- 
ous tints,  and  high-piled  wains  came  rock- 
ing over  the  furrowed  fields  and  through 
green  lanes  as  the  harvest  was  led  home, 
that  a  horseman  '  might  have  been  seen  ' 
(to  use  the  phraseology  of  Mr.  G.  P.  R. 
James) — nay,  was  seen — to  ride  leisurely 
down  the  Carse  and  take  a  flying  leap  over 


THE  GRAHAMS  OF  DUNDAEGUE.      69 

a  hedge  into  the  great  lawn  of  Dundargue, 
and  then,  after  trotting  his  horse  between 
belts  of  trees,  he  drew  his  bridle  for  a  few 
minutes,  while  he  lingered  and  regarded 
fondly  and  admiringly  the  old  structure, 
which  he  had  not  seen  for  well-nigh  seven 
years ;  and  Allan,  the  Master  of  Aberfeldie 
— for  he  the  rider  was — thought  there  was 
not  in  all  the  Carse  of  Gowrie  another 
residence  to  compare  with  Dundargue  for 
the  many  stories  and  characteristics  that 
circle  about  a  house  which  has  been  for 
ages  the  home  of  one  family,  with  all  its 
historic  memories,  its  traditions  and  pat- 
riotism. 

The  shadows  of  the  great  old  trees 
under  which  more  than  one  Scottish  king 
had  blown  his  hunting-horn  fell  far  along 
the  turf,  that  was  green  as  an  emerald  and 
soft  as  velvet.  A  semi-transparent  haze, 
mingling  with  the  sunshine,  pervaded  the 
Carse  land ;  the  smoke  of  an  adjacent  vil- 


70  THE  MASTER  OP  ABERFELDIE. 

lage  ascended  from  the  hoary  orchards 
around  it,  and  far  eastward  fell  the  shadow 
of  the  tall  and  weather-worn  keep  of  Dun- 
dargue,  with  all  its  tourelles,  or  Scottish 
turrets,  tinted  redly  by  the  rays  of  the 
setting  sun  ;  and  Allan's  heart  swelled  as 
he  looked  around,  for  the  love  of  his  native 
land  was  strong  within  him,  and  he  re- 
called the  words  of  an  English  writer,  who 
describes  it  as  the  place  chosen  by  Nature 
as  the  mirror  of  her  beauty : 

^  She  has  planted  it  in  the  northern  seas, 
with  its  mountains  fronting  the  western 
sun,  and  watered  its  plains  and  valleys 
with  a  thousand  streams,  over  which  the 
lights  of  heaven  are  poured  with  an  illumi- 
nation and  a  glory,  with  an  entanglement 
and  a  mingling  of  all  the  colours  that  can 
make  earth  beautiful.  There  is  no  land 
in  all  the  world  which,  for  the  softer  splen- 
dours of  mountain  and  fell,  wood  and 
stream,  surpasses  Scotland  !' 


THE  GEAHAMS  OF  DUNDAEGUE.      71 

And  Allan  now  remembered  that  the 
green  ridge  on  which  he  had  reined  up 
his  horse  for  a  moment  or  two  had  been 
to  him  a  place  of  fear,  when  a  child,  as 
the  abode  of  the  Daoine  Shi — the  goblins 
or  fairies — who  could  be  heard  at  work  in 
the  heart  of  the  knoll,  busily  opening  and 
shutting  great  chests,  the  contents  of 
which  were  alleged  to  be  the  pillage  of 
pantries,  larders,  and  meal-girnels ;  and 
once  an  old  housekeeper  at  Dundargue, 
who  contrived  to  circumvent  them  by 
securing  the  door  of  her  premises,  was 
struck  with  blindness,  from  which  she  did 
not  recover  till  the  barrier  was  removed. 

Allan  saw  a  lady  suddenly  appear  upon 
a  path  close  by  that  which  led  to  the 
avenue ;  and  she  proved  to  be  no  other 
than  Olive  Raymond,  who,  intent  on  being 
absent  when  he  arrived,  came  thus  upon 
him  face  to  face,  yet  neither  knew  the 
other. 


72  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

On  her  arm  she  bore  a  little  basket,  with 
some  presents  for  her  poor  pensioners. 
The  cordiality  and  kindness  of  Olive  to 
the  poor  and  labouring  people  made  the 
periodical  return  of  the  household  from 
London  and  elsewhere  more  than  a  matter 
for  local  rejoicing.  There  were  none  about 
Dundargue  but  loved  her,  as  they  also  did 
Eveline  Graham,  though  the  latter  did 
less  among  them  ;  and  the  Scottish  peasant- 
ry, it  must  be  borne  in  mind,  unlike  others 
elsewhere,  are  usually  too  self-reliant  and 
full  of  proper  pride  to  accept  aid  from 
Dorcas,  blanket,  food,  or  coal  societies. 

Well  mounted,  Allan  had  substituted  a 
light-grey  tweed  suit,  which  well  became 
his  dark  complexion,  for  his  shooting-kilt 
and  jacket,  and  as  a  sudden  light  or  con- 
viction came  upon  him,  aided  by  a  memory 
of  the  photo  he  had  seen  in  Holcroft's 
possession,  he  sprang  from  his  horse  when 
the  young  lady  drew  near. 


THE  GEAHAMS  OF  DUNDAEGUE.      73 

'  I  beg  your  pardon/  said  he,  as  he 
threw  the  bridle  over  his  arm  and  lifted 
his  hat ;  '  I  cannot  be  mistaken,  changed 
though  you  are — you  are  my  cousin,  Olive 
Eaymond  ?' 

She  blushed  deeply,  and  said, 

'  And  you — are  Allan  Graham  !' 

'  Yes,  Olive.  Oh  !  how  good,  how  kind 
of  you  to  come  and  meet  me,'  he  replied, 
his  heart  beating  lightly  as  he  looked  into 
her  beautiful  face  and  deftly  possessed 
himself  of  her  hands. 

'Far  from  it,'  she  replied,  seeking  to 
release  herself,  and  now  growing  pale  with 
positive  annoyance  at  his  sapposition.  '  I 
have  some  duties  to  do  at  the  village.  I 
hope  you  enjoyed  your  shooting  excur- 
sion ?'  she  observed,  after  a  pause. 

'  I  did — and  yet ' 

'  So  much  so,  indeed,  that  you  were  in 
no  haste  to  come  home,'  said  she,  laugh- 
ing to  conceal  her  secret  vexation  at  the 
rencontre. 


74  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

Allan  found  his  intended  wife  all  that  he 
could  have  wished,  and  more  than  he  could 
have  imagined.  The  little  girl  he  had  left, 
had  now  expanded  into  a  tall,  proud,  and 
lovely  one — lovelier  than  he  had  ever 
dreamed  of  her  being ;  and  under  her 
ipvetty  black  velvet  hat  her  grey-violet 
eyes  regarded  him  with  a  curious  mixture 
of  shyness  and  confusion  in  their  expres- 
sion, and — though  he  did  not  then  detect  it 
— resentment. 

When  he  had  last  seen  his  '  little  wife/ 
as  he  was  wont  to  call  her  then,  she 
was  a  madcap  girl,  with  all  her  golden 
hair  flying  far  and  wide  from  a  pearly 
neck  and  brow,  rippling  and  unconfined. 
1^0 w  her  braided  hair  was  of  the  richest 
brown,  and  she  was  the  belle  of  a  London 
season,  and  he  could  not  help  acknowledg- 
ing in  his  heart  the  many  charms  she 
possessed,  and  suddenly  becoming  very 
appreciative  thereof. 


THE  GRAHAMS  OF  DUNDAEGUE.      75 

'  I  hope  Mr.  Holcroft  is  enjoying  his 
sport  among  the  hills  ?'  said  she,  after  an- 
other pause. 

'  Never  mind  Holcroft,'  replied  Allan,  a 
little  piqued  by  her  manner ;  '  have  you  no 
welcome  for  me,  Olive?' 

'  Of  course  you  are  glad  to  be  home 
again,'  said  she,  evasively. 

*  I  have  always  loved  dear  old  Dundar- 
gue,  even  when  I  came  home  as  a  boy 
from  school,  and  now  I  shall  love  it  more 
than  ever.' 

'Why?' 

'  Can  you  ask  me — when  you  are  its 
permanent  inmate  ?' 

*  I  may  not  be  so  always,'  said  she, 
pointedly.  '  Nothing  lasts  for  ever  ;  but 
as  we  are  cousins — '  she  was  about  to  add 
something,  yet  paused. 

^  And  more  than  mere  cousins  can  ever 
be  to  each  other.  You  might  at  least  give 
me  your  hand,   Olive,'   said    he,    drawing 


76  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

nearer  to  her  as  she  looked  up  at  him,  earn- 
estly, shyly,  and  then,  he  began  to  think, 
rather  defiantly,  with  those  wonderful 
violet-grey  eyes  of  hers.  She  gave  him 
her  right  hand,  and,  though  cased  in  a 
tight  glove,  a  soft  and  warm  little  hand  it 
felt ;  but  he  drew  her  towards  him,  and, 
ere  she  could  avert  the  act,  was  softly  and 
swiftly  kissed  by  him. 

'  Dont^  she  exclaimed,  as  she  snatched 
her  fingers  from  his  clasp.  '  How  dare 
you  ?'  she  added,  repelling  him  with  both 
hauds  outspread,  and  a  laughing  indigna- 
tion that  was  not  all  laughter ;  but  he 
looked  at  the  sweet  red  lips  as  though  he 
longred  to  offend  aofain. 

*  Olive,  how  can  you  treat  me  thus,  after 
all  these  years  ?'  he  asked,  with  an  emo- 
tion of  annoyance.  '  Have  you  forgotten 
what  jolly  playmates  we  used  to  be ;  how 
we  went  nutting  and  seeking  birds'  nests 
together,   made    rag  dolls,   and  chorused 


THE  GRAHAMS  OF  DUNDARGUE.      77 

"Alexander,  King  of  Maceclon,"  and  so 
forth,  with  our  old  nurse,  Nannie  Mac- 
kinnon,  the  wife  of  Dugald  Glas?' 

'  I  have  not  forgotten  ;  but  I  had 
thought,  or  hoped,  that  you  had  done 
so.' 

'Why?' 

*  I  cannot  say,'  replied  the  wilful  beauty, 
pouting  and  yet  confessing  in  her  secret 
heart  how  handsome  he  looked,  and  how 
winning  he  was  in  eye  and  manner. 

'  I  remember,  too,'  said  he,  laughingly, 
'the  scores  of  times  we  used  to  wander  in 
the  garden,  or  on  the  heather  braes,  seek- 
ing bees  to  hloh  and  get  the  honey  out  of 
them ;  and  when  on  May  mornings  you 
used  to  catch  a  snail  by  the  horns,  and 
toss  it  over  your  left  shoulder  as  an  omen 
of  luck  in  marriage.' 

'  Allan,  such  odious  and  absurd  things 
should  be  forgotten.' 

*  We    were   children,    then ;    and    what 


78  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

fun  we  had  wheu  fishing  with  tinnies  in 
the  burn  for  minnows  and  pow-wowits 
under  the  old  brig-stone.  Do  you  remem- 
ber how  I  used  to  climb  to  get  birds'  nests 
for  you,  and  how  we  wove  fairy  caps  of 
rushes  and  bluebells  in  many  a  green  howe 
of  the  Sidlaw  Hills  ?' 

'  How  can  you  treasure  such  childish 
memories,  Allan?'  she  asked,  but  with 
momentary  softness  in  her  manner. 

'  Because  such  were  very  dear  to  me 
when  far  away  in  other  lands  and  other 
scenes,  when  the  Indian  sky  was  like  a 
sheet  of  heated  iron  overhead,  and  the 
breeze  that  came  from  the  sandy  desert 
was  like  the  breath  of  the  death-blast  ; 
when  cattle  perished  by  the  empty  tanks, 
the  birds  sat  on  the  dusty  trees  with  eyes 
closed  and  beaks  agape,  and  when  strong 
soldiers  died  on  the  line  of  march,  stricken 
down  by  sunstroke  or  sheer  exhaus- 
tion.' 


THE  GRAHAMS  OF  DTJNDARGUE.  79 

'  Poor  Allan  !' 

'And  you  are  going  to  the  village?' 
said  he,  inquiringly,  seeing  that  she 
manifested  no  desire  to  return  with 
him. 

'  Yes.' 

'  But  won't  you  accompany  me  home, 
now  that  I  have  returned  ?' 

'  You  must  excuse  me — I  do  so  en- 
joy a  walk  in  the  evening  before 
dinner. 

'  I  have  not  seen  my  mother  for  seven 
years,'  he  said,  reproachfully;  'yet,  if 
you  will  permit  me  to  accompany  you  to 
the  village,  I  shall  do  so,  and  then  escort 
you  home.' 

'  I  cannot  trespass  on  your  time  so 
much,'  she  replied,  with  a  slight  soupcon 
of  sarcasm  in  her  tone ;  '  besides,  what 
would  Aunt  Aberfeldie  think  of  your 
being  in  no  haste  to  see  her,  after  lin- 
oferine  so  long:  at  the  deer-forest  ?' 


80  THE  MASTER  OF  ABEEPELDTE. 

Allan  thought  rightly  that  he  now  de- 
tected the  true  source  of  her  pique  and 
peculiar  greeting  ;  but  he  knew  nothing 
yet  of  her  bitter  opposition  to  the  terms 
of  her  father's  will. 

'  Aunt  and  Eveline  are  anxiously  waiting 
you,  so  do  not  let  me  detain  you  longer. 
If  an  escort  back  is  requisite,  I  shall  doubt- 
less find  one  with  ease,'  and,  nodding  her 
head  smilingly,  she  tripped  down  the  tree- 
shaded  avenue  and  left  him  ;  thus  he  had 
no  choice,  though  looking  after  her  with  a 
sigh,  but  to  remount  and  ride  towards  the 
house,  or  rather  the  castle,  of  Dundargue. 

So — so  she  had  so  little  interest  in  him, 
in  his  return  and  his  society — that  she 
would  neither  turn  back  with  him  nor  per- 
mit him  to  escort  her,  but  had  left  him  ta 
pay  some  trumpery  visits  which  she  could 
do  at  any  other  time,  day,  or  hour. 

'  How  was  this  ?'  he  asked  of  himself. 
'  Holcroft  has  certainly  something  to  do 


THE  GRAHAMS  OF  DUNDARGUE.      81 

with  it.  Why  the  deuce  did  my  father 
bring  the  fellow  here  ?' 

Allan's  hitherto  languid  interest  in  her 
had  become  quickened  by  the  sight  of  her 
undoubted  beauty  and  grace,  and  he  was, 
perhaps,  a  little  unreasonably  piqued  by 
her  open  indifference  as  to  his  return  from 
remote  foreign  service,  and  to  his  views 
and  whole  affairs.  Thus  the  breach  be- 
tween these  two — if  such  we  may  call  it — 
seemed  likely  to  widen. 

In  a  few  minutes  more  the  affectionate 
effusiveness  of  the  welcome  home  accorded 
him  by  his  mother  and  his  tender  sister 
consoled  him,  but  it  contrasted  in  his  mind 
powerfully  and  painfully  with  that  of  his 
cousin ;  yet  he  could  scarcely  expect  that 
she  would  have  flung  her  soft  arms  round 
his  neck  and  kissed  him  again  and  again 
with  hungry  affection  on  both  cheeks  as 
they  did. 

*  The   pater,   dear   old    fellow,    will   be 

VOL.  I.  G 


82  THE  MASTER  OP  ABERFELDIE. 

iiome  in  the  course  of  a  day  or  two/  said 
he.  '  Mr.  Holcroft  is  coming  with  him, 
and  Stratherroch,  of  Ours,  too,'  he  added. 

He  noticed  that  Eveline's  pale  cheek 
coloured  for  a  moment  at  the  name  of  the 
latter. 

^  Ah,  you  know  him,  it  seems  ?'  said  he. 

'  Yes,  very  well,'  replied  Eveline,  frankly. 

'  He  has  been  at  home  with  the  depot 
lately.  A  right  good  sort  is  Evan  Cameron, 
but  desperately  hard  up,  poor  lad.  I  often 
think  he  will  have  to  exchange  for  India 
or  something  of  that  kind,  though  it  would 
break  his  heart  to  leave  the  Black  Watch.' 

Eveline's  long  lashes  drooped  as  her 
brother  said  this,  all  unconscious  that  his 
casual  remarks  were  secretly  wounding 
her. 

The  expression  he  could  plainly  detect 
in  the  sweet  and  expressive  face  of  his 
sister  at  the  mention  of  Evan  Cameron 
gave   Allan    some   occasion   for    thought. 


THE  GRAHAMS  OF  DUNDAEGUE.      83 

He  loved  aud  esteemed  his  friend  and 
brotber-oflficer,  but  felt  it  would  be  a 
serious  misfortune  indeed  if  any  affection 
took  root  between  him  and  Eveline ;  for 
Evan  was  poor,  as  we  have  hinted,  his 
estate  valueless  to  him,  and  *  at  nurse  ;' 
and  there  was,  moreover,  a  necessity  for 
Eveline  making  a  wealthy  marriage — in- 
deed, her  father,  Lord  Aberfeldie,  had 
already  a  suitor  in  view  for  her. 

^  I  am  so  sorry  that  our  dear  Olive  is 
out.'  said  Allan's  mother,  breaking  a  little 
pause  ;  '  but  we  knew  not  at  what  hour  to 
expect  you.' 

'  I  met  her  in  the  avenue- ' 

'  And  you  knew  each  other — how 
strange  !'  exclaimed  Lady  Aberfeldie,  with 
a  brightening  face. 

*  Yes,  after  a  minute  or  two.  She  seems 
as  charming  a  girl  as  one — to  use  a  sol- 
dier s  phrase — might  see  in  the  longest 
day's  march.' 

g2 


84  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERPELDIE. 

*  And  sucli  she  is.  She  did  not  turn 
back  with  you  ?' 

'  No,  mother,'  he  replied,  with  hesitation. 

*  But  she  was,  of  course,  glad  to  see 
you?' 

'  I  can't  say  that  she  was  particularly, 
mater  dear ;  and  she  got  into  a  regular 
pet  because  I  dared  to  kiss  her,  even  in  a 
cousinly  way.' 

'  Dared,  my  darling  boy  !'  exclaimed  his 
mother,  indignantly. 

^  Fact,  mater,'  said  the  Master,  smiling 
and  twirling  up  the  ends  of  his  long  dark 
moustaches. 

Lady  Aberfeldie  and  her  daughter  ex- 
changed a  swift  and  mutual  glance;  but 
the  latter  knew  more  of  the  views  of  the 
young  lady  in  question  than  the  former  did. 

'  I  am  glad  you  are  pleased  with  Olive,' 
said  she;  'and  when  your  acquaintance  is 
fully  resumed  you  will  find  the  dear  girl  all 
you  could  wish.' 


THE  GEAHAMS  OF  DUNDAEGUE.      85 

'  She  has  wonderful  blue-grey  eyes  ;  they 
seem  violet-blue  when  she  sruiles,  and  black 
when  she  is  angry.' 

'  Angry  T  said  Lady  Aberfeldie,  inquir- 
ingly. 

'  "Well,  she  rather  looked  so  when  I 
ventured  to  kiss  her  in  the  avenue,'  said 
Allan,  laughing,  and  referring  to  a  kiss 
that,  though  snatched,  he  was  never  to 
forget,  perhaps,  in  the  long  years  that 
were  to  come. 

'  She  lias  grown  the  very  image  of  her 
mother,  your  poor  Aunt  Muriel,  who  was 
one  of  my  bridesmaids.' 

By  visits  to  the  minister's  manse  and 
elsewhere  Olive  had  wilfully  and  petulantly 
contrived  to  protract  her  absence  from 
home  to  the  last  moment;  the  dressing- 
bell  had  rung,  and  before  dinner  she  was 
hastily  giving  a  few  touches  to  her  costume 
— not  that  she  cared  to  attract  her  cousin 


86  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

(quite  the  reverse)  ^ — but  she  dismissed  her 
foreign  maid,  Clairette  Patchouli,  on  a  sign 
that  Eveline  wished  to  talk  with  her  alone, 

'  Now,  Olive,'  began  the  latter,  '  that  you 
have  seen  Allan ' 

*  I  saw  him  years  ago,'  interrupted  Olive, 
pettishly. 

'  He  was  a  boy  then  ;  but  now  that  he  is 
a  man,  and  not  the  boy  you  remember^ 
what  do  you  think  of  him  ?' 

Olive  made  no  reply,  but  continued  to 
slip  her  bangles  on  the  whitest,  roundest, 
and  most  taper  pair  of  arms  that  ever  be- 
wildered the  senses  of  man. 

'Isn't  he  very  handsome?'  persisted 
Eveline. 

'  To  partial  eyes,  perhaps,  but  there  are 
plenty  of  men  in  the  world  quite  as  hand- 
some— even  more  so,  I  doubt  not.  I  like 
him  already,  but  don't  let  him  think  so  ; 
besides,  I  also  like  our  English  visitor,  Mr. 
Holcroft.' 


THE  GRAHAMS  OF  DUNDAEGUE.      87 

*I  do  notP  said  Eveline,  decisively. 
'Why?' 

*  He  is  horsey  in  bearing,  and  his  face, 
though  handsome,  T  grant  you,  often  wears 
a  sinister,  sharp,  and  supercilious  expres- 
sion.' 

'  How  tanned  Allan  is  by  the  Indian 
sun  !' 

*  I  think  his  face  and  head  both  grand 
and  handsome  !'  exclaimed  his  sister,  with 
affectionate  enthusiasm;  'he  quite  reminds 
me  of  the  old  Greeks.' 

'  I  was  not  aware  you  knew  any  of  them,' 
laughed  Olive. 

'  Their  sculptures,  I  mean,'  replied  Eve- 
line, as  they  swept  down  the  great  stair- 
case to  the  dining-room. 


88 


CHAPTER  Y. 

OLIVE     AND     ALLAN. 

A  FEW  days  had  now  passed  since  Allan 
Grabam's  return  to  Dundargue,  but  he 
seemed — though  greatly  attracted  by  his 
cousin  Olive,  and  in  a  manner  compelled  to 
think  of  her  as  something  more  than  a 
mere  cousin — to  make  no  progress  in  her 
favour  at  all.  Sometimes  he  smoked  beside 
her  in  utter  silence,  while  she  swung  in  a 
hammock  between  two  trees  on  the  lawn, 
deep — or  affecting  to  be  so — in  the  last 
three-volume  novel  that  had  come  in  the 
box  from  Edinburgh  ;  and,  when  they  stole 
furtive    glances   at   each  other,  his  were 


OLIVE  AND  ALLAN.  89 

curious  and  hers,  under  the  shadow  o£ 
her  gorgeous  Japanese  umbrella,  were 
hostile,  defiant  at  least,  and  thus  not 
without  a  certain  drollery ;  but  few  remarks 
were  interchanged  of  a  more  exciting 
nature  than  that  '  the  weather  was  lovely,' 
or  '  the  leaves  were  falling.' 

In  these  days,  and  for  long  after,  Olive 
was  terribly  uncertain  in  her  moods,  and 
to  Allan  Graham  it  seemed  at  times  as  if 
she  almost  disliked  him. 

When  they  were  alone  together,  which 
was  seldom,  she  scarcely  spoke  to  him, 
and  thus  his  enforced  silence  disposed  her 
to  be  more  silent  still.  To  Olive  the  whole 
situation  was  one  of  miserable  unrest ;  she 
felt  that  there  was  something  grotesque 
in  it,  and  she  longed  intensely  to  be  any- 
where else  than  at  Dundargue. 

While  Allan,  admiring  her  rare  beauty 
and  pretty,  petulant  ways,  was  already 
learning  to  love  her,  he  found  his  tongue 


90  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

loaded,  as  it  were,  tied  up,  and  his  tender- 
ness cramped  by  the  strange  tenor  of 
her  father's  will,  which  made  him  feel  that, 
love  her  as  he  might,  that  love  would  never 
seem  pure,  or  without  the  taint  of  self- 
ishness. 

He  had  procured  for  her  at  Malta  a 
complete  suite  of  gold  and  pearl-mounted 
Maltese  jewellery,  the  best  that  could  be 
found  in  the  Strada  San  Paoli,  costing 
him  more  than  even  he  could  well  afford  ; 
but  now  so  cold  and  repellant  was  her 
demeanour  that  he  had  not  the  courage  as 
yet  to  present  the  elaborate  trinkets — so 
rich  in  fretwork  and  fine  as  a  gossamer 
web — so  they  were  left  to  repose  in  their 
purple  velvet  cases. 

Yet  his  thoughts  about  her  were  be- 
coming persistent  now.  Times  there  were 
when  he  conceived  that  he  would  treat  her 
judiciously,  but  tenderly,  and  in  such  a 
fashion  that  her  feelings  must  slide  into  a 


OLTVE  AND  ALLAN.  91 

species  of  sisterly,  or  at  least  cousinly, 
interest  in  him  ;  but  then — at  these  times 
— a  flash  of  her  dark  grey-blue  eyes  cast 
these  intentions  to  the  winds,  though 
Allan  began  to  feel  nothing  but  passionate 
love  for  her. 

To  him,  as  to  her,  the  situation  imparted 
an  awkwardness  now,  that  of  course  he  had 
never  been  conscious  of  when  a  boy.  He 
did  not  want  the  money  of  his  cousin  or  of 
anyone  else,  as  he  muttered  to  himself 
while  tugging  and  twisting  his  thick,  dark 
moustache ;  and  thus,  with  all  the  tender- 
ness that  was  growing  in  his  heart  for 
Olive,  he  often  unconsciously  adopted  to- 
wards her  a  studied  courtesy  and  almost 
indifferent  bearing  that  somewhat  galled 
her  ready  pride,  and  made  her  think  '  this 
indifference  to  me,  and  the  beauty  all  men 
aver  I  possess,  can  only  spring  from  a  love 
he  bears  some  one  else ;  and,  with  that 
love  in  his  heart,  he   seems  actually  ready 


92  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

to  conform  to  the  outrageous  wishes  of 
papa  !' 

And  more  convinced  of  this  suspicion 
did  she  become  when  she  found  that  he 
evinced  no  more  desire  to  seek  her  society 
than  that  of  his  mother  or  sister ;  but  this 
■was  the  result  of  her  own  bearing. 

Allan  was  ere  long  in  sore  perplexity. 
The  slightest  attempt  at  tenderness  she 
repelled  or  seemed  to  shrink  from,  as  a 
sensitive  plant  shrinks  from  the  touch ; 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  lack  of  it 
seemed  to  increase  her  coldness  and  rouse 
her  sense  of  pride. 

'  What  the  deuce  is  the  meaning  of 
this  ?'  muttered  Allan,  as  he  chanced  upon 
a  volume  one  day.  It  was  a  very  hand- 
some and  expensive  edition  of  some  of 
Byron's  poems,  which  had  been  given  by 
Hawke  Holcroft  to  Olive  as  a  birthday 
gift,  and  on  turning  over  the  leaves  of 
which  he  found   innumerable  paragraphs 


OLIVE  AND  ALLAN.  9^ 

and  lines  pencilled  on  pao^es  that  seemed 
to  fall  naturally  open,  where  these  marks, 
all  of  which  referred  to  love  and  passion, 
were  most  plentiful. 

All  of  these  seemed  to  have  been  select- 
ed with  an  ulterior  view  for  her  perusal 
and  study.  Allan  knit  his  brows  and 
tossed  the  volume  to  the  other  side  of 
the  table. 

'  So,  so/  thought  he,  '  Cousin  Olive  has 
had  a  guide  for  her  reading,  and  the  guide 
is  that  fellow  Holcroft.  He  has  made 
good  use  of  his  time,  hang  him  !' 

Olive,  who  had  been  watching  him  under 
the  deep  fringes  of  her  eyes,  smiled  when 
she  saw  the  action,  and,  instantly  divining 
the  reason  of  it,  resolved  not  to  leave  her 
Byron  lying  about  in  future ;  and  now  a 
new  mood  seized  her. 

'Tell  me,  Allan,'  she  said,  suddenly 
looking  up  from  a  piece  of  music  she  was 
studying,    'did   you  ever  think   of   me  at 


94  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIB. 

all  wlien  you  were  all  these  years  far 
away  in  India  T 

/Have  you  forgotten  what  I  told  you  on 
the  evening  we  met  on  the  lawn?'  said  he, 
reproachfully,  yet  surprised  by  her  taking 
the  initiative  in  a  conversation,  especially 
of  this  kind.  '  Often,  indeed,  did  I  think 
of  you  !' 

*  How — in  what  fashion  ?' 

^  As  my  merry  little  playmate  when  I 
was  a  mere  youth — the  droll  girl  to  whom 
I  was  somehow  tied  up  under  Uncle  Kay- 
mond's  will.' 

'  You  phrase  it  rightly,'  said  she,  biting 
her  coral  nether  lip.  '  Tied  up  ;  yes,  but 
I  won't  be  so.  Yet  you  did  think  of  me 
as  a  droll  little  playmate  ?' 

'  Yes  ;  how  else  could  I  think  of  you  ? 
Not  as  the  lovely  girl  I  find  you  now, 
Olive.' 

^  You  may  know  by  this  time  that  I  hate 
all   flattery,'    said  she,  blushing   hotly   at 


OLIVE  AND  ALLAN.  95 

what  she  had  brought  upon  herself  by  a 
blunt  reference  to  a  hitherto  ignored  sub- 
ject— their  mutual  relation  to  each  other. 

'  I  have  here  a  gift  I  brought  you  from 
India,'  observed  Allan,  timidly,  as  he  un- 
locked his  desk  and  thought  of  the  Maltese 
ornaments,  but  did  not  dare  refer  to  them 
as  yet. 

'  A  gift  ?'  said  she,  coldly,  with  face  half 
averted. 

'  A  little  silver  idol  of  Siva,  beautifully 
carved  and  chased — will  you  accept  of  it  ?' 

'  Thanks — with  pleasure,'  said  she,  trem- 
bling lest  it  had  been  a  ring.  '  How  curi- 
ous, and  yet  how  grotesquely  hideous  it 
is !'  she  added,  turning  it  round,  and  then 
balancing  it  in  the  white  palm  of  a  slim 
and  delicate  hand. 

'And  rather  a  curious  story  attends  it 
— if  you  care  to  hear.' 

'  Please  to  tell  me,'  said  she,  her  curi- 
osity roused.     '  Why,  the  funny  thing  has 


96  THE  MASTER  OF  ABEEFELDIE. 

ever  so  many  heads,  and  a  dozen  of  arms 
at  least !' 

'  We  were  in  cantonments  at  Hurdwur, 
in  Delhi/  said  Allan,  glad  to  secure  her 
attention  even  for  a  few  minutes,  *  when 
a  subadar-major  of  the  10th  Native  Infan- 
try, a  disciple  of  Siva,  wishing  to  sacrifice 
to  his  little  idol,  placed  it  by  the  bank  of 
the  river  there,  which  is  one  of  the  greatest 
places  for  Hindoo  purification,  and  the 
resort  of  thousands  of  pilgrims  from  every 
part  of  Hindostan.  While  he  turned  aside 
to  get  the  ghee  with  which  to  anoint  it, 
some  person  adroitly  carried  it  off.  After 
searching  for  it  in  vain,  with  consternation 
in  his  soul,  the  unfortunate  subadar-major 
went  to  the  priest  of  the  nearest  temple, 
and,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  related  his  loss. 

'  "  Dog  !"  exclaimed  the  priest,  "  you 
have  lost  your  god,  and  must  prepare  to 
die,  for  death  alone  can  soothe  the  wrath 
of  Siva." 


OLIVE  AND  ALLAN.  97 

*  ''  If  die  I  must,"  replied  fhe  wretched 
subadar-major,  with  clasped  hands  and 
trembling  knees,  though  a  brave  man,  as 
the  medals  on  his  breast  proved,  "it  shall 
be  by  drowning  in  the  holy  river ;  so  come 
with  me  to  the  edge  thereof,  and  give  me 
your  blessing." 

'  The  priest  consented,  and  followed  him 
to  the  Ganges,  into  which  he  went  deliber- 
ately. 

*  "  Be  courageous,  my  son — die  with  joy, 
and  perfect  happiness  awaits  you,"  ex- 
claimed the  priest. 

^  "  My  dear  master,"  said  the  subadar, 
"  before  I  perish,  lend  me  your  god  that  I 
may  adore  it — the  water  is  already  up  to 
my  neck." 

*  The  priest  consented,  and  handed  his 
idol  to  the  subadar-major,  who,  as  if  by 
accident,  let  it  drop  in  the  deep  water. 

*^'Ah!  master,"  he  exclaimed,  as  if  in 
horror  and    dismay,    "  what    a   new    mis- 
VOL.  I.  H 


98  THE  MASTER  OP  ABERFELDIE. 

fortune  !  Your  god  is  also  lost,  and  so  we 
must  die  together — for  you  must  drown, 
too,  and  go  with  me  to  the  throne  of 
Siva !" 

'  And,  approaching  the  priest,  he  strove 
to  grasp  the  hand  of  the  latter,  who  stood 
pale  and  trembling  on  the  lowest  step  of 
the  ghaut  or  landing-place. 

'  "  What  trash  do  you  speak  ?"  the  priest 
suddenly  exclaimed,  in  great  wrath  ;  "can 
there  be  any  harm  in  losing  a  little  image 
of  baked  clay,  not  worth  an  anna  !  I  have 
dozens  of  such  in  my  temple  close  by ;  let 
us  each  choose  one,  and  keep  silence  on  the 
subject !" 

'  The  subadar  did  so  then,  but  chose 
this  fine  silver  one,  which  he  bestowed  on 
me  for  kindness  shown  to  him  when 
dying  of  a  wound  received  in  a  skirmish, 
and  I  brought  it  home  as  a  bauble  for  you, 
Cousin  Olive/ 

She   placed  the   idol  on  the  table,  and 


OLIVE  AND  ALLAN.  99 

remained  silent,  while  Allan  ejed  her 
wistfully. 

'  Why  is  my  presence  so  distasteful  to 
you  ?'  he  asked,  after  a  minute's  pause. 

'  Distasteful !  Oh  !  Allan,  don't  say  so,' 
said  she,  impressed  by  the  pathos  of  his 
tone,  but  for  a  moment  only ;  ^  it  is  you 
who  think,  or  seem  to  think  so.' 

*  Olive  !'  he  exclaimed,  a  little  impatient- 
ly and  reproachfully  as  he  drew  near  her. 

'  There — there — that  will  do,'  said  she, 
starting  up,  '  don't  bring  down  the  ceil- 
ing on  me — auntie  more  than  all  1' 

o 

And  she  swept  from  the  room,  leaving 
the  idol  behind  her. 

Allan  sighed  with  annoyance,  and  ad- 
dressed her  no  more  during  the  whole  of 
that  day.  She  was  conscious  of  this,  for 
she  remarked  to  Lady  Aberfeldie  in  the 
evening, 

'  How  odd— how  strange  Cousin  Allan 

is  to  me  !' 

H  2 


100  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

'  Strange  ?' 

'  Yes,  aunt.' 

'  I  know  not  what  you  mean,  Olive,'  she 
replied,  a  little  gravely  and  severely;  *  but 
to  me  it  seems  that  youave  always  strange, 
•     and  not  my  son,  the  Master.' 

Lady  Aberfeldie  had  a  soft,  but  set  face 
of  the  classic  type,  with  a  mouth  that, 
though  beautiful  and  aristocratic,  could 
become  very  fixed  in  expression  at  times, 
and  it  seemed  so  now  to  Olive,  thus  that 
yoang  lady  withdrew. 

'  Our  Allan  is  young  and  handsome, 
noble  and  most  unselfishly  in  love  with 
her,  as  I  am  beginning  to  hope,  Eveline,  so 
what  more  would  Olive  Raymond  wish 
for  ?'  said  Lady  Aberfeldie  to  her  daughter. 

*  She  would  have  that,  which  she  has 
not,  mamma,  perfect  freedom  to  accept  or 
refuse  whom  she  chose.  Unselfish  in  love 
I'  know  Allan  must  be  ;  but  that  is  precise- 
ly the  point  which  Olive  is  left  to  doubt.' 


OLIVE  AND  ALLAN.  101 

*  Wherefore  ?' 

'  Through  that  unlucky  will,  which 
makes  a  kind  of  bondswoman  of  her.' 

'  I  would  to  heaven  the  silly  document 
had  never  been  framed  !  I  have  often 
feared  that  it  might  lead  to  all  our  atten- 
tion, care,  and  affection  being  misconstrued 
by  her  ;  but  Allan  might  have  been  sickly, 
weakly,  even  deformed,  and,  with  the  terms 
of  this  will  hanging  over  her,  what  would 
she  have  thought  then  ?' 

'  Then,  as  I  have  heard  her  say,  the  will 
might  be  reduced  by  a  court  of  law.' 

At  this  reply  a  clouded  expression  came 
into  the  fair,  colourless  face  of  Lady 
Aberfeldie,  but  just  then  a  servant  in  the 
Graham  livery,  yellow  and  black,  approach- 
ed with  a  note  on  a  salver. 

'  From  papa  !'  she  said,  while  cutting  it 
open  with  a  mother-of-pearl  knife.  '  Just 
a  line  or  two  to  say  he  will  be  home  in  a 
couple  of  days,  and  is  certainly  bringing 


]  02  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

with  him  Mr.  Hawke  Holcroft,  ^'the  son 
of  his  old  friend,"  and  that  other  young 
detrimental,  Stratherroch.  He  is  well- 
nigh  penniless,  but,  with  your  papa,  to  be 
in  the  Black  Watch  is  quite  equal  to  a 
patent  of  nobility.' 

Eveline  felt  her  colour  fade,  while  a  sad 
expression  stole  over  her  soft  face,  and 
her  mother,  after  glanciog  at  her  narrow- 
ly, added, 

'  He  also  brings  our  wealthy  friend,  Sir 
Paget  Puddicombe.  the  M.P.  for  Slough- 
cum-Sloggit,  in  Yorkshire.  You  remember 
him  in  London  last  season,  and  how  much 
he  admired  you,  dear  ?' 

Eveline  did  remember  him,  and  how  the 
rich  but  elderly  baronet's  attentions,  en- 
couraged by  her  parents,  were  the  ridicule 
of  her  girl  friends  and  the  bane  of  her 
existence  ;  yet  she^pnly  sighed  and  remain- 
ed silent,  and,  passing  through  a  French 
window,  quitted  the  drawing-room  to  join 


OLIVE  AND  ALLAN.  103 

her  brother,  who  was  smoking  a  cigar  on 
the  terrace,  and  teasing  the  peacocks  as 
they  sat  on  the  stately  balustrade. 

He  was  in  rather  a  similar  mood.  He 
felt  the  demeanour  of  Olive  after  the  little 
episode  of  the  idol  keenly,  and,  remember- 
ing the  pencilled  Byron,  was,  of  course, 
inclined  to  connect  Hawke  Holcroft  with 
that  demeanour ;  so  he  had  certainly  be- 
come, for  a  time,  cold  and  constrained  in 
manner  to  his  cousin. 

'  When  was  that  photo  of  Olive  done  ?' 
he  asked,  rather  abruptly. 

'  The  one  in  the  ball  dress  ?' 

'  Yes.'  • 

'  When  we  were  last  in  Edinburgh ;  but 
I  do  not  remember  where  the  studio  was.' 

*  She  gave  one  to  that  Mr.  Holcroft.' 

'  I  was  quite  unaware  that  she  did  so,* 
said  Eveline,  with  some  annoyance  of 
manner. 

'  Look  here,   Eve,  if,  when  in   London,' 


104     THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

grumbled  Allan,  '  she  shies  her  photos 
about  in  this  fashion  they  will  soon  be  in 
every  fellow's  possession,  and  we  may, 
ere  long,  expect  to  find  them,  like  those 
of  professional  beauties,  on  glove  and 
match-boxes.' 

'  What  a  funny  and  horrid  idea  !'  said 
his  sister,  passing  her  arm  through  his  and 
nestling  her  head  on  his  shoulder,  while 
he,  stooping,  kissed  her  mignonne  face  with 
a  smiling  caress. , 

'  There  is  nothing  funny  about  it,'  he 
replied,  though,  like  her,  he  could  little 
foresee  the  trouble  that  unlucky  photo- 
graph was  to  cost  in  the  future.  *  And,  to 
say  the  least  of  it,  Olive  treats  me  with 
almost  hostility  at  times.' 

'  She  does  not  conceal  from  me  a  resent- 
ment at  her  lack  of  free  will.' 

'  As  for  Uncle  Raymond's  arrangements, 
I  would  to  goodness  that  he  had  left  all 
he  had  to   his    old   housekeeper    and  her 


OLIVE  AND  ALLAN.  105 

infernal  screeching  cockatoo  with  the  yel- 
low tuft.' 

'  Certainly  Olive  does  not  seem  to  be  the 
kind  of  girl  to  be  disposed  of  against  her 
wish,  Allan;  you  may  read  that  in  the  firm 
tread  of  her  little  fqet,  in  the  carriage  of 
her  head,  and  the  perfect  possession  of  her 
manner/ 

'  But  surely  she  may  be  won — though 
she  will  not  understand  me.' 

'  I  hope  she  will  ere  long ;  but  is  there 
not  a  writer  who  says,  Allan,  that  while 
the  world  lasts  the  difficulty  of  women 
understanding  and  making  allowance  for 
the  feelings  of  men  in  what  pertains  to 
love,  "  will  be  probably  one  of  the  great 
sources  of  darkness  and  confusion  in  the 
social  arrangement  of  things." ' 

'  What  a  dear  little  casuist  it  is,'  said  he, 
as  she  raised  her  loetite  figure  on  tip-toe  to 
kiss  his  well-tanned  cheek  ;  '  but/  he  add- 
€d,  '  I  am  in  a  state  of  great  uncertainty/ 


106  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

*  Uncertainty  can  always  be  ended ;  but 
then  perhaps  how  bitterly — how  very  bit- 
terly,' replied  Eveline,  who  was  not  with- 
out some  harrowing  thoughts  of  her  own  ; 
and  something  in  her  tone  caused  Allan 
to  regard  her  soft  hazel  eyes,  and  sweet, 
shy  face,  with  tenderness  and  inquiry. 

*  Of  what  are  you  thinking,  or  of — 
whom?'  he  whispered,  as  his  arm  went 
caressing  round  her,  and  he  stroked  her 
bright,  sheeny  hair. 

'  T  may  trust  you,  Allan  ?'  she  said,  in  a 
broken  voice. 

'  To  death,  petite.  You  are  thinking  of 
— of  Evan  Cameron  ?' 

Eveline  sobbed  now. 

'  Has  he  spoken  of  love  to  you  ?'  asked 
Allan,  in  a  low  voice,  and  with  a  troubled 
expression  in  his  face. 

*  Never ;  he  knows  it  would  be  hopeless,' 
she  replied,  huskily. 

'  Poor  Evan  !  and  the  governor  is  bring- 


OLIVE  AND  ALLAN.  107 

ing  him  again— a  grand  mistake  !  How 
the  deuce  is  all  this  to  end  with  us  ?  But 
don't  sob  so,  my  little  darling,'  he  added, 
as  he  drew  her  closer  to  him. 

Yet,  despite  her  brother's  sympathy  and 
tenderness,  Eveline  Graham  let  her  tears 
flow  freely,  and  he  promised  to  keep  her 
secret  that  she  and  Evan  Cameron  cher- 
ished an  unspoken  and  hopeless  love  for 
each  other ;  and  in  a  brief  space  they  were 
to  meet  again  ! 

Meanwhile,  though  somewhat  relieved 
by  having  her  brother  for  a  confidant,  she 
was  both  restless  and  unhappy.  She 
strolled  upon  the  terrace  to  feed  the  pea- 
cocks, or  wandered  listlessly  in  the  garden, 
going  from  occupation  to  occupation,  tak- 
ing up  a  book — one  of  Mudie's  last — only 
to  toss  it  aside  ;  seated  herself  before  the 
piano,  rose  then  and  left  it.  Anon  she 
resorted  to  her  sketching-block,  sorted  her 
colours,  selected  a  brush,  only  to  quit  any 
attempt  to  work  with  a  hopeless  sigh. 


108 


CHAPTER  YI. 


THE    CHAGRIN   OF  LOVE. 


Lord  Aberfeldie  duly  arrived  at  Dundargue 
with  his  three  gentlemen  visitors,  their 
approach  being  heralded  by  the  pipes  o£ 
Eonald  Gair,  who  was  perched  on  a  seat 
of  the  game-laden  wagonette  as  it  bowled 
■up  the  avenue. 

On  the  first  day  of  his  return  the  peer 
was  anxious  to  learn  upon  what  footing 
the  cousins  were — if  Allan  had  made  a 
proposal,  or  '  even  opened  the  trenches,' 
and  if  so,  with  what  success.  On  these 
points  he  was  enlightened  by  Lady  Aber- 
feldie, and,  though  not  very  much  surprised 


THE  CHAGRIN  OF  LOVE.  109 

to  find  matters  as  they  were,  lie  trusted 
to  propinquity  and  cousinly  feeling  of  in- 
tercourse, as  trump  cards  in  the  game,  and 
was  sure  that  all  would  come  right  in  the 
end,  and  before  Allan's  leave  of  absence 
was  out. 

There  was  no  selfishness  in  this  desire 
of  Lord  Aberfeldie.  He  had  no  power  to 
alter  the  matter  as  it  stood,  for  if  she  did 
not  marry  Allan  if  he  was  willing  to  marry 
her,  '  then  and  in  that  case,'  as  the  will 
had  it,  her  patrimony  would  be  lost  even 
to  herself.  Allan's  death  alone  would  save 
it  for  her. 

Great  indeed,  thought  the  girl  with  bit- 
terness, must  have  been  her  father's  regard 
for  the  house  of  Aberfeldie  ! 

*What  friends — such  lovers  we  might 
be  but  for  the  confounded  plans  of  that 
eccentric  old  fellow  !'  was  the  ever-recur- 
ring thought  of  Allan. 

'  You  are  at  least  fond  of  her?'  said  the 


110  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

peer,  as  lie  and  his  son  smoked  their 
cigars  together  on  the  terrace  that  over- 
looked the  far- stretching  vista  of  the  Carse 
of  Gowrie,  then  bathed  in  the  raddy  splen- 
dour of  the  setting  sun. 

'  Fond  of  Ohve  !  Yes,  as  much  as  she 
will  permit  me  to  be.  She  is  my  cousin, 
of  course/  replied  Allan. 

'  There  is  something  evasive — doubtful 
— in  your  answer  ;  but  you  must  at  some 
time  or  other  propose  to  her.  You  know 
precisely  the  terms  of  her  father's  remark- 
able will.' 

'  Yes,  and  that  it  hangs  like  a  millstone 
round  the  necks  of  us  both,  rendering 
what  may  be  the  dearest  wish  of  our 
hearts  liable,  perhaps,  to  the  grossest  mis- 
construction. She  has  more  than  once 
told  Eveline  that  to  gain  freedom  of  action 
she  would  face  poverty — anything.' 

'  Tuts  !  Eomantic  rant !  Much  sJie 
knows    of    what    poverty   is.      But   why 


THE  CHAGRIN  OF  LOVE.  Ill 

should    she    even    think    of    facing    it?' 

'  To  be  free  and  unfettered,  as  I  have 
said.' 

'  Relinquishing  to  you  all  that  portion 
of  her  fortune  which  does  not  go  to  charit- 
able institutions  ?' 

'  Yes.' 

*  Poor  girl  !  A  silly  and  impetuous 
threat.  But  she  will  think  better  of  it, 
Allan,  by-and-by,  and  we  have  fully  five 
years  to  count  upon  yet.' 

But  it  did  not  seem  as  if  the  fair  Olive 
was  likely  to  change  her  mind  soon,  to 
judge  by  her  bearing  that  evening,  when, 
after  dinner,  the  guests  and  family  at 
Dundargue  assembled  in  the  drawing- 
room. 

The  repast  was  over,  and  thereafter, 
ere  the  ladies  withdrew,  Ronald  Gair,  with 
all  his  drones  in  order,  his  Crimean, 
'Indian,  and  Ashanti  medals  glittering  on 
his  breast,  had  marched  thrice  round  the 


112  THE  MASTER  OF  ABEEFELDIE. 

table,  according  to  his  daily  wont,  in  '  fall 
fig/  looking  as  only  a  Highland  piper  or  a 
peacock  can  look  ;  and,  to  the  amazement 
of  Sir  Paget  Puddicombe  and  the  disgust 
of  Hawke  Holcroft,  winding  up  'The 
Birks  of  Aberfeldie '  by  several  warlike 
skirls  at  the  back  of  his  master's  chair — 
the  dinner,  we  say,  was  over,  and  the 
gentlemen  had  joined  the  ladies  in  the 
stately  drawing-room,  which  was  lighted 
by  more  than  one  glittering  chandelier. 

Lord  Aberfeldie,  his  son,  and  Strather- 
roch,  as  they  wore  the  kilt,  had,  of  course, 
substituted  for  their  rough  shooting- 
jackets  others  of  black  cloth,  with  the 
irreproachable  white  vests  and  ties  as 
evening  costume,^ and  had  also  assumed 
their  silver-mounted  dirks ;  while  Hol- 
croft  and  one  or  two  more  were  de  rigueur 
in  the  funereal  attire,  which  a  writer  calls 
'  the  butler-suit,  the  most  hideous  clothing 
yet  hit  upon  by  our  species.' 


THE  CHAGRIN  OF  LOVE.  1 13 

In  that  brilliant  drawing-room,  grouped 
with  well-bred  people,  were  some  curious 
elements  of  secret  doubt  and  future  dis- 
cord that  did  not  quite  meet  the  eye. 

Holcroft  hung  over  the  chair  of  Olive 
so  closely  that,  at  times,  the  tip  of  his 
long  and  waxed  tawny  moustache  nearly 
touched  her  head,  while  she  played  with 
her  fan,  opening  and  shutting  it  listlessly 
as  they  conversed  in  low  tones,  he  adopt- 
ing a  sentimental  oue,  though  it  was  ever 
his  boast  that  he  '  was  not  one  of  those 
fools  who  hoard  by  them  dried  flowers, 
locks  of  hair,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing.' 

Quietly  watched  by  Lady  Aberfeldie, 
whose  lips  wore  their  set  expression,  Evan 
Cameron  was  entirely  occupied  with  her 
daughter,  while  Allan  seemed  quite  as 
intent  on  a  new  guest,  Miss  Logan  of 
Loganlee,  a  girl  possessed  of  considerable 
personal  attractions ;  and  his  father  talked 
politics  with  Loganlee  himself,  the  parish 

VOL.  I.  I 


114     THE  MASTER  OF  ABEREELDIE. 

rainister,  and  Sir  Paget  Puddicombe,  a 
short,  pompous,  and  squat,  but  rather 
pleasant  little  man,  with  a  prematurely 
bald  head,  which  he  had  a  way  of  jerking 
forward  from  his  neck  like  a  turtle,  a 
rubicund  face,  two  merry  eyes,  and  whose 
age  was  rather  doubtful,  but  too  old  any 
way  for  a  girl  of  Eveline  Graham's  years, 
though  he  affected  considerable  juvenility 
of  manner. 

Lord  Aberfeldie.  who  generally  about 
that  time,  when  at  Dundargue,  was  wont 
to  enjoy  a  quiet  little  game  of  chess  or 
bezique  with  Olive  or  Eveline,  was  rather 
bored  by  the  empressement  with  which  the 
clergyman.  Sir  Paget,  and  Loganlee  dis- 
cussed politics  and  the  prospects  of  the 
ministry. 

The  latter,  a  sombre  man,  whose  air  of 
respectability  was  almost  oppressive,  was 
one  of  a  style  of  men  common  enough  in 
Scotland.     A  small  landed  proprietor,  he 


THE  CHAGRIN  OP  LOVE.  115 

had  contrived  to  become  M.P.  in  the 
Liberal  interest  for  a  cluster  of  Scottish 
burghs  (each  of  which,  if  in  England, 
would  have  had  two  members),  and 
he  w^as  chiefly  noted — being  ^  Parliament 
House  bred' — for  neglecting  Scottish  in- 
terests and  toadying  to  the  Lord-Advocate, 
and  consequently  obtained  the  usual  legal 
reward,  a  sheriffship,  or  something  of  that 
kind,  with  a  thousand  a  year  or  so. 

He  "seldom  opened  his  mouth,  save  to 
talk  on  politics ;  he  was  tall  and  thio,  with 
very  square  shoulders,  grizzled,  sandy, 
mutton-chop  whiskers,  apple-green  eyes, 
and  nothino-  more  about  him  remarkable, 
save  a  curious  air  of  perpetual  self-asser- 
tion, combined,  as  we  have  said,  with  an 
oppressive  one  of  respectability. 

His  host  began  to  change  the  tenor  of  the 
conversation  by  hoping  that  Sir  Paget  found 
his  quarters  comfortable  last  night,  adding 
that  he  occupied  *  the  Johnson  Ptoom.' 

i2 


116  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

^  Whj7  is  it  SO  called  r'  asked  Sir  Paget, 
jerking  forward  his  bald  head. 

^  Dr.  Johnson  slept  a  night  in  Dundargue 
when  on  his  famous  tour.' 

*  Of  which  Boswell  makes  no  mention  ?' 
said  Mr.  Logan,  inquiringly. 

*  Because  my  ancestor  did  not  pay  Iwn 
sufficient  deference ;  and,  indeed,  I  fear 
we  should  scarcely  ever  have  heard  of  the 
literary  bear  of  Bolt  Court  and  Fleet  Street 
but  for  that  Scotch  toady  of  his.  Though 
he  alleged  that  the  most  valuable  piece 
of  timber  in  Scotland  was  his  walking- 
stick,  he  might  have  seen  some  fine  trees 
at  the  Birks  of  Aberfeldy.  We  must  ride 
over  there,  Sir  Paget,  and  I  will  show  you 
the  cradle  of  the  Black  Watch,  my  old 
regiment  of  immortal  memory.' 

'How?' 

*  It  was  first  mustered  there  on  the  25th 
of  October,  1739.' 

'Ah!'  said  Sir  Paget,  who  was  not  so 


THE  CHAGEIN  OF  LOVE.  11 7 

much  interested  in  the  matter  as  the 
speaker. 

Sir  Paget  was  a  childless  widower,  and 
had  been  left  a  noble  fortune  in  many 
ways,  including  nearly  the  whole  of 
Slough-cum-Sloggit,  of  which  his  father 
rose  by  his  own  merits  to  be  mayor.  He 
had  entered  the  town  a  tattered  lad,  with 
only  a  sixpence  in  his  pocket,  and,  in 
due  time,  the  sixpence  became  the  basis 
of  colossal  wealth.  He  had  been  made 
a  baronet  by  the  ministry  of  the  day — no 
one  knew  precisely  for  what ;  but  the 
wealth  he  left  behind  him  gave  his  son 
an  interest  in  the  eyes  of  Lady  Aberfeldie 
he  was  unlikely  to  attain  in  the  soft  hazel 
orbs  of  her  daughter. 

Sir  Paget  generally  stood  with  his  chest 
puffed  out,  reminding  one  of  a  pouter- 
pigeon,  his  little,  fat  hands  interlaced  be- 
hind his  back,  and  often  as  not  under 
the   tails    of   his   coat,    his   round,    good- 


118     THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

humoured  face  and  twinkling  eyes  turned 
up  to  the  faces  of  those  with  whom  he 
conversed,  as  most  men,  and  women,  too,- 
had  the  advantage  of  him  in  stature. 

With  a  gold  pince-nez  balanced  on  his 
very  pug  nose,  he  was  what  young  ladies 
described  as  '  an  absurd  little  man  '  whose 
tender  speeches  they  laughed  at — none 
morq  than  Eveline — till  matters  took  a 
serious  turn,  though  he  failed  to  feel  the 
truth  of  the  aphorism,  'Let  no  lover 
cherish  sanguine  hopes  when  the  object 
of  his  choice  has  grown  to  look  upon  him 
in  the  light  of  the  ridiculous.' 

Evan  Cameron,  we  have  said,  sighed 
for  Eveline ;  hopeless  as  his  undeclared 
love  had  been,  the  presence  of  the  wealthy 
English  baronet,  in  conjunction  with  cer- 
tain rumours  he  had  heard,  made  it  more 
hopeless  than  ever ;  and,  unattractive 
though  Sir  Paget's  years  and  figure,  he 
felt  intuitively  that  in  him  he  had  a 
dangerous  rival. 


THE  CHAGRIN  OF  LOVE,  119 

When  be  found  that  this  most  eligible 
parti  was  again  on  the  tapis — one  whose 
name  had  been  associated  with  that  of 
Eveline  in  at  least  one  '  society '  paper 
during  the  last  London  season,  poor  Strath- 
erroch's  heart  sank  down  to  zero.  He 
felt  and  knew  that,  with  Lady  Aberfeldie 
especially,  he  was  literally  '  nowhere  '  by 
his  want  of  wealth,  though,  like  a  true 
Highlander,  he  could  trace  his  lineage 
back  into  the  misty  times  of  Celtic  an- 
tiquity ;  but,  aristocratic  though  she  was, 
the  peeress  set  little  store  on  that. 

Eveline  Graham  seemed  as  much  beyond 
his  reach  as  the  moon.  He  felt  that,  for 
his  own  peace  of  mind,  he  ought  to  quit 
Dundargue  as  soon  as  possible,  yet  he 
clung  desperately  to  the  perilous  delight 
of  the  girl's  society. 

To  all  appearance,  the  pair  were  simply 
lookiug  over,  almost  in  silence,  a  large 
book  of  clear-skied  and  strongly-shadowed 


120  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

photos  of  Indian  scenery  brought  home 
by  Allan,  yet  both  their  hearts  had  but  a 
single  thought,  and,  when  the  downward 
glance  of  his  soft  grey  eyes  met  hers,  she 
felt  that,  in  spite  of  herself,  there  was 
something  in  it  like  a  magnetic  spell. 

Passionate  and  pleading  eyes  they  were, 
generous  and  loving  in  expression,  telling 
the  tale  his  lips  had  not  yet  uttered,  and 
might  never  do  so  ;  and  the  girl  lowered 
her  white  lids  as  if  a  weight  oppressed 
them,  and  the  diamond  locket  on  her  white 
bosom  sparkled  as  a  sigh  escaped  her. 

A  little  way  off,  in  something  of  the 
same  pose,  Ilawke  Holcroft,  with  a  glass 
in  his  pale,  sinister  eye,  was  hanging,  as 
we  have  said,  over  Olive  Raymond,  doing 
his  utmost  in  sotlo  voce  to  fascinate  that 
young  lady,  while  pretending  to  translate, 
as  suited  the  occasion  and  himself,  for  the 
edification  of  his  fair  listener,  the  letter- 
ing  of   one   of   the  Chinese  or   Japanese 


THE  CHAGRIN  OF  LOVE.  121 

fans  tbat  were  strewed  about  the  tables. 

Now,  Mr.  Hawke  Holcroffc  knew  nothing 
about  the  terms  of  Mr.  Raymond's  will,  or 
of  the  existence  of  any  such  document,  and 
might  never  know.  He  was  only  certain 
that  Olive  was  undoubtedly  an  heiress ; 
that  he  himself  was  very  impecunious,  and 
ere  long  might  be  well-nigh  desperate ;  and 
so  he  did  not  see  why  he  should  not,  to 
use  his  own  horsey  phraseology,  *  enter 
stakes  as  well  as  another.' 

Rumour,  certainly,  had  linked  the  names 
of  the  cousins  together  ;  ^  but  if  she  is  en- 
gaged to  Graham,'  thought  the  observant 
Holcroft,  '  it  is  strange  that  she  wears  no 
engagement  ring.' 

lie  knew  not  that,  separated  as  the  pair 
had  been  almost  from  childhood,  no  such 
little  formality  as  the  presentation  of  a 
ring  could  have  been  gone  through;  and 
7iow^  as  the  Master  did  not  see  his  way  to  it 
as  yet,  Holcroft  was  'scoring,' or  thought  so. 


122     THE  MASTER.  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

He  was  leaving  nothiDg  unsaid  to  en- 
chain her  attention.  He  seemed  very 
clever :  at  least  he  could  converse  fluently 
on  many  subjects  ;  seemed  to  have  been 
everywhere  and  to  have  seen  everything 
worth  seeing,  or  pretended  to  have  done 
so,  which  was  most  likely. 

'  However  they  stand,  her  heart  is  not 
in  it,'  was  his  ever-recurring  thought ;  '  and 
if  so,  why  the  deuce  shouldn't  I  try  my 
hand  ?  She  has  a  pot  of  money — indeed, 
no  end  of  money,  I  hear;  but,  then,  if  her 
noble  aunt  and  uncle  have  made  up  their 
noble  minds  to  pounce  upon  her  as  a 
daughter-in-law,  how  is  she  to  resist,  unless 
she  elopes,  if  "  Barkis "  (meaning  Allan) 
"is  willin"?  They  can  make  her  life  a 
burden  to  her  until  she  gives  in,  or — or  I 
run  away  with  her,  and  why  the  devil 
should  I  not  ?' 

Holcroft  was  an  artful  man,  and  well 
acquainted  with  every  phase  of  dissipated 


THE  OHAGEIN  OF  LOVE.  123 

life  ;  he  had  suave  mauners  when  he  chose 
and  an  unexceptionable  appearance.  With 
many  debts  and  secret  passions,  he  was 
cold  and  selfish ;  a  man  who  never  made  a 
move  in  any  way  without  forecast  and  cal- 
culation ;  and  who  might  commit  a  crime 
if  driven  to  it,  but  never  precisely  a  folly. 

He  was  closely  watchiug  Olive  while  he 
conversed  with  her  ;  he  admired  her  beau- 
tiful person,  but  still  more  her  ample  purse. 
She  dared  to  trifle  with  him  at  times,  he 
thought ;  and  then,  even  when  looking 
down  upon  her  satin-like  hair,  her  dazzliug 
white  shoulders  and  innocent  violet  eyes, 
with  a  vengeful  feeling  he  mentally  vowed 
that  he  would  compel  her  to  love  him,  or 
accept  him,  he  cared  not  which,  if  human 
will  and  cunning  failed  him  not ! 

He  had  a  love — a  passion  for  her— in  a 
strange  fashion  of  his  own,  yet  times  there 
were  when  he  almost  hated  her  for  fencing 
with  him ;  and  little  could  the  soft,  bright 


124     THE  MASTEE  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

beauty,  who  raised  her  fine  eyes  from  time 
to  time  to  his  and  conversed  so  laughingly 
with  him,  have  conceived  the  conflicting 
emotions  that  were  concealed  in  his  breast 
under  a  smiling  exterior,  or  the  shame  and 
agony  he  was  yet  to  cost  her. 

Even  when  he  attempted  to  look  loving, 
there  were  a  cold  expression  and  lack  of 
colour  in  his  eyes,  and  there  was  some- 
thing very  significant  of  an  iron  will  about 
his  lips  and  powerful  chin. 

Olive  had  no  warm  feeling  for  Holcroft, 
and  save  for  the  obnoxious  will  would 
infinitely  have  preferred  her  cousin  Allan 
in  the  end ;  but  she  affected  just  then  to 
believe  in  Platonic  friendship  (blended 
with  a  little  judicious  flirtation)  so  firmly 
that,  to  pique  Allan,  she  showed  a  great 
apparent  preference  for  his  would-be 
rival. 

Olive  and  Holcroft  knew  that  this  seem- 
ing flirtation  was  perilous  work,  and  might 


THE  CHAGEIN  OF  LOVE.  125 

compromise  them  both  with  Lord  and 
Ladj  Aberfeldie,  and  with  Allan,  too,  if  it 
attracted  attention ;  but  Holcroft  had  a 
game  to  play.  Olive's  proud  little  heart 
was  full  of  resentment  and  pique,  and  then 
anything  with  a  spice  of  danger  in  it  is 
always  curiously  fascinating. 

More  than  all,  Olive  was  beginning  to 
feel  conscious  that,  under  the  circum- 
stances, it  was  strangely  awkward  to  be  in 
the  same  house  with  Allan  Graham — the 
intended  husband  to  whom  her  father  had 
bequeathed  her.  But  whither  could  she 
go? 

In  more  than  one  instance,  in  the  draw- 
ing-room at  Dundargue,  that  night  was 
illustrated  the  aphorism  that  language  is 
given  us  to  conceal  our  thoughts,  and 
much  was  exhibited  of  what  the  French 
not  inaptly  term  the  chagrin  or  peevishness 
of  love. 


126 


CHAPTER  VII. 

LE  CHAGRIN  d'aMOUR. 

Allan  Graham,  with  all  his  quiefc  and 
growing  love  for  Olive,  seeing  how  she 
received  him,  neither  petted  her  as  he  was 
wont  to  do  in  his  boyhood,  nor  after  a  time 
had  attempted  any  tenderness  with  her ; 
but  trusted  to  the  progress  of  events  and 
the  necessity  for  fulfilling  her  father  s  wish 
rather  than  to  his  own  influence  or  power 
of  persuasion,  aware  that  she  could  only 
become  the  bride  of  another,  penniless,  or 
nearly  so,  a  circumstance  which  militated 
sadly  against  himself. 

But  this  assumed  coldness  and  calmness 


LE  CHAGEIN  d'aMOUR.  127 

withal,  Olive  could  feel,  with  a  woman's 
acuteness  in  such  matters,  how  much  the 
expression  of  his  dark  eyes  and  the  tone 
of  his  voice  changed  and  softened,  uncon- 
sciously, when  he  looked  at  and  addressed 
her.  She  was  of  his  own  blood,  like  a 
sister,  whom  he  might  treat  with  formality 
or  affection,  coldly  or  playfully,  according 
to  the  occasion  or  the  mood,  and  whom  he 
might  love  as  much  as  he  liked,  or  she 
would  permit.  Ah  !  this  tender  and 
mysterious  tie  of  cousinship  must  give 
him,  as  he  thought,  'a  great  pull'  over 
Hawke  Holcroft,  and  every  other  man. 

On  this  evening,  how  handsome  she 
looked,  in  all  her  wilfulness !  How  Allan 
longed  that  he  might  take  her  in  his 
embrace,  to  kiss  her  starry  eyes,  her 
peach-like  cheek,  and  sheeny  hair  with  an 
ardour  he  had  never  felt  in  his  boyhood, 
when  he  had  done  so  mauy  times ;  but 
now,  somehow,  he  dared  scarcely  think  of 


128     THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

such  a  thing,  and  there  was  that  fellow 
Holcroft,  with  all  his  easy  insouciance^  and 
with  the  smile  of  one  who  never  laughed 
really  in  his  life,  hanging  just  rather  too 
much  over  her,  with  a  considerable  amount 
of  empressement  in  his  eyes  and  manner, 
pouring  his  flowery  nothings  into  her 
apparently  willing  ear,  and  Lady  Aber- 
feldie,  who  could  stand  this  no  longer, 
became  secretly  provoked,  and  opened  and 
shut  her  fan  of  heavy  mother-of-pearl  with 
such  vehemence  that  the  sticks  rattled. 

And,  with  the  emotions  we  have  de- 
scribed in  his  heart,  Allan,  as  if  the  further 
to  play  out  the  game  of  cross-purposes,  in 
a  spirit  of  pique,  doubtless,  remained  in 
close  attendance  on  Miss  Ruby  Logan. 

Now  the  latter  was  not  the  heiress  of 
Loganlee,  as  she  had  several  brothers  ;  but, 
even  had  she  been  so,  it  would  not  have 
enhanced  her  value  in  the  ambitious  estima- 
tion of  Lady  Aberfeldie. 


LE  CHAGRIN  D'AMOtJli.  129 

But  Ruby  was  a  very  handsome  girl, 
with  a  skin  pure,  transparent,  and  dehcate 
as  the  lining  of  a  shell,  while  her  fine  hair 
was  ample  in  quantity,  and  of  the  darkest 
amber ;  her  eyes  large,  deep-blue,  and 
fringed  by  dark  lashes.  She  was  large, 
full  in  form,  and  altogether  a  bright  and 
attractive-looking  girl,  and  Olive  felt  con- 
scious that  she  might  prove  rather  a  for- 
midable rival  if  she  ever  had  to  view  her  as 
such. 

Replacing  the  three  daughters  of  the 
minister  of  Dundargue,  who  had  been 
a£Qicting  the  company  with  much  boarding- 
school  Mozart  and  Chopin,  who  would  have 
deemed  anything  national  vulgar,  to  say  the 
least  of  it,  compared  with  some  lachrymose 
drawing-room  ballad,  and  who  in  a  ditty  of 
great  length  and  mystery,  which  we  quote  at 
second  hand,  had  informed  their  hearers — 

*  Mermaids  we  be. 
Under  the  blue  sea ' — 

VOL.  I.  K 


130  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

replacing  them,  we  say,  E^uby  Logan  sang 
to  Allan  in  a  rich  mezzo-soprano  voice, 
and  with  a  suppressed  emotion,  born  per- 
haps of  a  coquettish  desire  to  dazzle  and 
please  him,  as  a  handsome  young  fellow  of 
good  position,  all  of  which  proved  a  fresh 
annoyance  to  my  Lady  Aberfeldie,  who 
deemed  music  at  times  '  a  convenient  noise 
for  drowning  conversation,  and  under 
whose  shelter  the  old  people  talk  scandal 
and  the  young  people  make  love,'  and  who 
knew  that  Miss  Logan,  like  Olive,  had 
that  wonderful  charm,  which  is,  perhaps, 
one  of  the  greatest  any  girl  can  possess,  a 
lovely  and  ever-changing  expression  ;  and 
even  Allan,  as  he  gazed  down  into  the 
depths  of  her  dark-blue  eyes  (while  she 
sang  at  him),  and  anon  glanced  furtively  at 
Olive,  thought  to  himself, 

'  How  the  dickens  will  our  little  game  of 
cross-purposes  end  ?' 

Lady  Aberfeldie  was  just  then  indulg- 


LE  CHAGEIN  d'aMOUR.  131 

ing  in  the  same  surmise,  as,  full  of  watch- 
fulness, she  occupied  an  ottoman  in  the 
centre  of  the  inner  drawing-room,  cresting 
up  her  white  throat  and  well-shaped  head ; 
looking  in  her  stately  beauty  like  the 
heroine  of  some  grand  old  Scottish  ro- 
mance of  the  days  of  Montrose  or  Prince 
Charles,  for  there  was  something  of  a  past 
age  in  her  style  and  bearing,  though 
attired  in  the  latest  fashion  by  a  modiste 
of  Princes  Street. 

In  her  matronhood,  Lady  Aberfeldie 
had  still  that  subdued  charm  which  was 
not  now  the  beauty  of  youth,  yet  stood 
very  much  in  place  of  it ;  but,  with  all  her 
softness  of  manner,  she  was  a  proud  and 
determined  woman,  capable  of  doing  much 
to  accomplish  a  purpose  of  her  own,  and 
the  marriage  of  Eveline  to  Sir  Paget 
Puddicombe  was  certainly  her  purpose  at 
present. 

Thinking  that  it  was  high  time  to  make 

k2 


132  THE  MASTER  OF  ABEEFELDIE. 

some  change  in  the  general  grouping,  the 
moment  Miss  Logan's  musical  performance 
was  dene  she  summoned  Allan  to  her  side 
by  a  wave  of  her  fan. 

'  So  glad  I  am  that  your  father,  who  so 
often  mistakes,  invited  dear  Sir  Paget 
here,'  she  said,  in  low  voice. 

'  He  is  rather  a  good  sort,'  replied  Allan, 
in  his  off-hand  way ;  *  capital  cellar  and 
preserves,  I  have  heard.' 

'  So  rich,  and  not  very  old  ;  he  always 
admired  Eveline,  and  she  certainly  cares 
for  no  one  else — thus  I  have  great  hopes 
for  her,  Allan,'  she  added,  confidently ;  but 
Allan  sighed  ;  he  knew  better,  and  recalled 
the  tears  of  his  gentle  sister  on  the  ter- 
race, and  her  half  murmured  admissions  of 
deep  interest  in  that  winsome  young 
brother-officer,  whom  he  loved  so  well ; 
and,  as  he  remained  silent,  his  mother 
spoke  again. 

'  Mr.  Holcrof t  seems  to  be  fairly  absorb- 


LE  CHAGRIN  d'aMOUR.  133 

ing  Olive;  be  has  been  talking  to  her  quite 
long  enough,  and  this  will  not  do  ;  ask  her 
to  play  something  at  my  request,  and  do 
you  lead  her  to  the  piano.' 

'  We  are  anticipated,'  said  Allan,  as  he 
saw  his  sister  seat  herself  at  the  instru- 
ment w^ith  young  Cameron  by  her  side, 
busy  among  the  leaves  of  her  music ;  and 
a  shade  of  annoyance  deepened  in  the  face 
of  Lady  Aberfeldie  as  she  glanced  at  her 
husband,  whose  eyes  were  turned  also  to- 
wards the  pair,  and  she  knew  from  per- 
sonal experience  how  much  may  be  inferred 
or  deduced  from  the  words  of  a  song,  and 
also  how  many  a  tender  speech,  an  accom- 
paniment, however  ill  or  well  executed, 
may  conceal. 

Lord  Aberfeldie,  of  course,  would  never 
consent  to  Eveline  having  a  suitor  wath 
means  so  limited  as  those  of  her  young 
admirer;  but,  though  the  idea  of  such  a 
contingency  had  not  occurred  to  him.  Lady 


134  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

Aberfeldie  was  much  sharper  and  more 
suspicious ;  she  saw  '  how  the  tide  set,' 
and  was  much  opposed  to  Cameron  being 
even  a  visitor  at  Dundargue  in  any 
way,  as  an  utter  'detrimental,'  and  de- 
clined to  see  how  his  being  one  o£ 
'  Ours  ' — the  Black  Watch — altered  that 
matter. 

And  now,  after  a  considerable  amount 
of  preluding,  much  unnecessary  whisper- 
ing, as  '  my  lady'  thought,  much  glancing 
and  many  reciprocal  smiles,  Evan  Cameron 
began  to  sing,  accompanied  by  her  daugh- 
ter; and  more  annoyed  became  the  matron 
on  finding  the  theme  chosen  one  of  love 
and  tenderness  that  could  be,  and  was, 
sung  with  considerable  point — a  now  for- 
gotten little  Scotch  song,  which  the  author 
adapted  to  the  air  of  '  Rousseau's  Dream,' 
and  with  the  desire  to  excel  before  the  girl 
he  loved  better  than  life,  young  Cameron 
gave  his  whole  soul  to  the  lyric. 


LE  CHAGRIN  d'aMOUR.  135 

*  See  the  moon  o'er  cloudless  Jura 

Shining  in  the  loch  below ; 
See  the  distant  mountain  towering 

Like  a  pyramid  of  snow. 
Scenes  of  grandeur — scenes  of  cliildhood — 

Scenes  so  dear  to  love  and  me  ! 
Let  us  roam  by  bower  and  wild  wood, 

All  is  lovelier  when  with  thee. 

'  On  Jura's  hills  the  winds  are  sighing. 

But  all  is  silent  in  the  grove  ; 
And  the  leaves  with  dewdrops  glistening 

Sparkle  like  the  eye  of  love. 
Night  so  calm,  so  clear,  so  cloudless. 

Blessed  night  to  love  and  me ; 
Let  us  roam  by  bower  and  fountain, 

All  is  lovelier  when  with  thee* 

And  it  was  not  unnoticed  by  Lady  Aber- 
feldie  that  at  the  closing  word  of  each 
verse  the  eyes  of  the  pair  unconsciously 
met.  Ere  Eveline  could  be  prevented, 
•she  had  acceded  to  Cameron's  softly  utter- 
ed desire  that  she  would  sing  anything  for 
him  ;  and  she  frankly  did  so,  throwing  into 
her  voice  the  thrill  and  tenderness  that 
are  sure  to  come  into  a  ofirl's  utterances 


136  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

when  singing  to  the  man  she  loves.  The 
heart  of  Cameron  responded  to  this  mys- 
terious influence,  and,  as  the  girl  regarded 
him  furtively  from  time  to  time,  she 
thought,  with  his  crisp  wavy  hair,  his  clear 
grey  eyes,  general  expression  and  bearing, 
he  looked  every  inch  what  he  was,  the  de- 
scendant of  that  Sir  Evan  Cameron  of 
Lochiel  who  met  Cromwell's  men  in  com- 
bat under  the  shadow  of  Ben  Nevis  ;  yet 
to  other  eyes  he  seemed  just  a  good  sample 
of  an  infantryman  who  had  across  his  fore- 
head the  genuine  sunmark  of  his  craft, 
made  under  the  line  of  his  forage-cap  by  a 
scorching  tropical  sun. 

And  now  when  Lady  Aberfeldie,  to  stop 
any  more  musical  performances  between 
these  two,  prevailed  upon  Olive  to  replace 
her  cousin,  she  was  quick  enough  to  de- 
tect that  the  former,  displeased  or  piqued 
by  Allan's  apparent  attention  to  Ruby 
Logan,    swept   past    him    with   the    most 


LE  OHAGHIN  d'aMOUR.  137 

subtle  little  touch  of  disdain  in  the  car- 
riage of  her  handsome  head. 

Now  Cameron  had  once  more  to  give 
place  to  pudgy  little  Sir  Paget,  who — puff- 
ing out  his  chest  and  jerking  forward  his 
bald  shining  head — began  to  do  his  best 
to  make  himself  pleasing  to  Eveline,  while 
the  latter,  under  her  mothers  watchful 
eye,  was  compelled  to  listen  and  appear  to 
act  with  compliance  and  complacency ;  and 
poor  Eveline,  like  Olive,  often  felt  with 
some  compunction  that  her  mother's  gene- 
ral bearing — which  a  certain  quiet  yet 
lofty  dignity  seemed  never  to  forsake — 
was  more  calculated  to  inspire  respect  than 
love. 

And  Canneron,  while  he  found  himself 
talking  rather  absently  on  regimental  mat- 
ters with  Lord  Aberfeldie,  as  he  looked  at 
Eveline  from  time  to  time,  was  thinking 
sadly  in  his  honest  heart, 

'  Oh,  what  madness  it  is  in   me  to  love 


138     THE  MASTER  OF  ABEEFELDIE^ 

her  as  I  do,  and  how  wicked  if  I  lure  her 
into  loving  me !  Can  I  expect  her  ambi- 
tious mother  or  her  calculating  father  ever 
to  view  with  favour  one  so  penniless  as  I 
am  ?  Would  it  be  honourable  in  me  to 
profit  by  her  girlish  prepossession  in  my 
favour,  and  so  preclude  her  from  reaping 
those  advantages  of  wealth,  position,  and 
rank  which  she  is  entitled  to  expect,  and 
to  which  her  parents  looked  forward  ?  and 
alas !  as  the  wife  of  Sir  Paget — if  such  be 
her  fate — poor  Eveline  will  be  lost  for  ever 
to  me.' 

His  breast  felt  torn  by  such  thoughts 
as  these ;  and,  sooth  to  say,  it  is  as  often 
amid  the  splendour  and  luxury  of  life,  as 
amid  its  squalor  and  poverty,  that  some  of 
its  bitterest  tragedies  are  acted  out. 

But  now  the  party  began  to  break  up — 
the  ladies  to  seek  their  respective  apart- 
ments, and  the  gentlemen  to  adjourn  for 
a  time  to  the  smoking-room. 


LE  CHAGRIN  d'aMOUR.  139 

As  the  two  cousins,  each  so  different  in 
her  style  of  loveliness,  crossed  the  great 
apartment,  the  soft  frou-frou  of  their  long 
silken  dresses  seemed  to  mingle  with  their 
soft  laughter  and  silvery  voices.  Sir  Paget 
jerked  forward  his  head  and  remarked  to 
his  hostess  that  'they  made  a  charming 
picture.* 

Each  had  a  sore  place  in  her  heart,  but 
there  was  no  appearance  of  it  then. 

Though  resenting  the  position  in  which 

she  was  placed,  and  much  inclined  to  resist 

it,  Olive  Raymond — such  is  female  caprice 

— also  resented  Allan's  having  hovered  so 

much  about  the  amber-haired  beauty,   and, 

when  she  bade  him   adieu  for  the   night, 

she   could    not   help    singing  softly,    with 

some  point   and  waggery,  as  she   glanced 

back  at  him,  the  lines  of  Tennyson's  song : 

*  I  know  a  maiden  fair  to  see, 
Take  care ! 
She  can  both  false  and  friendly  be, 

Beware,  beware ! 
Trust  her  not,  she  is  fooling  thee.' 


140  THE  MASTER  OP  ABERFELDIE. 

But  whether  she  applied  the  words  to  her- 
self or  Ruby  Logan  it  puzzled  him  to  divine. 

Olive  and  Eveline  were  of  an  age,  and 
able  to  sympathise  with  each  other  in 
every  thought  or  fancy.  They  had  grown 
up  together  like  sisters,  Olive,  as  an 
orphan,  doubtless  being  the  most  petted 
of  the  two  by  the  household  ever  since  she 
came  a  little  child  to  Dundargue,  and  both 
were  frank,  both  were  open-hearted,  and 
proud  of  each  other's  personal  attractions ; 
and  now,  dismissing  their  maids,  they 
brushed  out  each  other  s  shining  hair  that 
they  might  have  a  quiet  gossip  together. 

'  So  ends  a  tiresome  night/  said  Eveline, 
shrugging  her  white  shoulders,  which 
shone  like  ivory  in  the  light  of  the  toilette 
candles :  '  a  night  when  the  conversation 
of  everyone  seemed  of  a  nature  so  antag- 
onistic, or  as  if  it  was  all  broken  up  into 
wrong  duets.' 

Like  her  father,  Eveline  was  anxious  to 


LE  CHAGEIN  d'aMOUR.  141 

discover  how  the  cousins  were  affected  to- 
wards each  other  now ;  yet  the  course  of 
this  evening,  in  which  Allan  had  plainly 
flirted  with  Ruby  Logan,  while  Olive 
seemed  to  have  been  engrossed  by  Mr. 
Holcroft,  did  not  seem  to  promise  much, 
and  she  hinted  this  pretty  plainly. 

'  I  do  think  Holcroft  loves  me,  or  leads 
me  to  infer  that  he  does/  said  Olive,  with 
a  soft  smile  on  her  downcast  face,  as  she 
took  off  her  rings,  bangles,  and  bracelets, 
and  tossed  them  on  the  marble  toilette- 
table.' 

'  And  you — what  is  your  feeling  for 
him?'  asked  Eveline,  with  some  anxiety 
in  her  face  and  tone ;  '  not  love,  I  hope.' 

'  I  don't  know  w^hat  I  feel — perhaps  it 
is  only  a  girl's  emotion  of  gratitude  and 
vanity.' 

*  I  hope  it  will  never  be  anything  more. 
You  scarcely  spoke  to  poor  Allan  to-night  ?^ 
said  Eveline,  interogatively. 


142     THE  MASTEK  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

*  Rather  say  he  scarcely  spoke  to  me  I 
But  we  are  fated  to  see  quite  enough  of 
each  other,  I  suppose/  replied  Olive,  as 
with  slender  fingers  she  coiled  and  knotted 
up  the  silky  masses  of  her  rich  brown  hair. 
*How  absurd  it  is,'  she  added,  petulantly, 
'  to  think,  as  I  have  said  a  hundred  times, 
that  I  have  a  lover  cut  and  dry  for  me — 
Sb  fiance — ever  since  he  was  in  jackets  and 
knickerbockers  !' 

After  a  pause,  during  which  she  was 
critically  and  approvingly  regarding  her- 
self sideways  in  the  swinging  cheval-glass, 
she  said, 

'  When  I  heard  that  he  was  returning 
to  Dundargue,  I  was  quite  prepared  to 
dislike  him  intensely.' 

'  Olive  !' 

'  Fact,  dear ;  and  since  then  he  must 
.have  been  sorely  puzzled  by  my  various 
moods  towards  him.' 

*  You  speak  but  with  truth  in  this  ;  and 


LE  CHAGRIN  d'aMOUR.  143 

yet  he  seems  to  have  been  somewhat  the 
same  with  you.' 

'  Poor  fellow — but  ever  so  good  and 
kind; 

'  And — and  you  think,  Olive  dear,  that 
you  are  beginning  to  love  him  as  mamma 
wishes?' 

•  Nay — nay,  I  cannot  admit  that.' 

'  Even  to  me  ?'  said  Eveline,  caressing  her. 

'  Even  to  you.  Did  you  not  see  his 
manner  to-night  with  Ruby  Logan  ?' 

'  To  pique  you,  if  possible,  Olive ;  but 
when  Allan  proposes  to  you,  as  I  am  sure 
he  will,  and  must  do -' 

'  Must  do  !'  interrupted  Olive.  '  Yes — 
there  it  is.' 

'Well?' 

'  Then,  and  in  that  case,  as  the  will  has 
it,  I  shall  tell  him  that,  however  I  may 
esteem  and  regard  him  as  my  cousin,  he 
can  never  be  more,  or  nearer,  or  dearer 
than  as  such.' 


144  THE  MASTER  OF  ABEEFELDIE. 

Eveline  sighed  and  smiled ;  but  she  told 
this  reply  next  day  to  Allan,  and  hence  he 
became  less  in  a  hurry  to  bring  matters  to 
an  issue,  though  love  was  growing  in  his 
heart,  nevertheless. 

'  Oh,  why  is  it  that  women  cannot  speak 
their  minds  as  men  do  ?  I  wish  I  dared 
run  away !'  exclaimed  the  petulant  beauty, 
beating  the  carpet  with  a  little  impatient 
foot.  '  To-day  I  saw  two  great  brown 
eagles  winging  their  way  skyward  from 
the  rock  of  Dundargue ;  and  oh  !  Eveline, 
you  can't  think  how  long  and  wistfully  I 
watched  them  till  they  dwindled  into  tiny 
specks.' 

'  Why  ?' 

'  They  seemed  such  free  agents,  and,  as 
such,  to  be  envied.  They  had  no  wills  or 
last  testaments  made  by  others  to  control 
their  actions — no  parents  to  rule  them  in 
the  matters  of  love  and  marriage.' 

*  How  droll  you  are,  Olive  !     To  whom 


LE  CHAGEIN  d'aMOUE.  145 

but  you  would  such  speculations  occur? 
I  hope  you  did  not  express  them  to — = 
to ' 

'  Allan  ?' 

'  Yes; 

'Not  to  Allan.' 

'  To  whom  then  ?' 

'  Mr.  Holcroft.' 

'  Then,  you  were  very  wrong  to  do  so/ 
said  Eveline,  almost  severely  ;  *  he  will  be 
certain  to  draw  his  own  deductions  there- 
from.' 

'  In  something  else  I  was,  I  fear,  wrong 
too.' 

'  How  ?' 

'  I  permitted  him  to  try  one  of  my  gold 
bangles — one  sent  me  by  Allan  from  Delhi 
— on  his  arm,  and  it  would  not  come  off 
again.' 

'  And  the  bangle  ?"' 

'  Is  still  tbere,'  said  Olive,  laughing,  but 
not  without  a  little  emotion  of  alarm. 

VOL.  I.  L 


146     THE  MASTER  OF  ABEREELDIE. 

'  Oh,  Olive !'  exclaimed  Eveline,  witli 
somethiDg  of  dismay,  ^  how  could  you  ? 
This  is  worse  than  the  photo.' 


147 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE     }IIDING-PARTY. 

For  some  time  the  days  passed  on  as  they 
generally  do  in  a  country-house  like  Dun- 
dargue,  and  there  was  all  the  usual  flow 
of  life  and — with  three  exceptions,  Sir 
Paget,  Holcroft,  and  Cameron — change  of 
guests  and  visitors,  with  the  amusements 
wealth  can  give. 

First  came  the  partridge-shooting,  and 
then  the  pheasants  were  to  be  knocked 
over,  while  the  ladies  drove  almost  daily 
to  the  preserves  with  the  luncheon  in  the 
drag  or  large  pony-carriage  ;  there  were 
hunting  days,  dinners,  luncheons,  musical 

l2 


148     THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

evenings,  carpet  dances,  and  so  forth,  and 
the  inevitable  lawn-tennis,  with  the  ladies 
in  bewitching  costumes ;  but  still  Allan, 
damped  perhaps  by  his  sister's  communica- 
tions, '  made  no  way  '  with  his  tantalising 
cousin,  and  Hawke  Holcroft,  on  Lord 
Aberfeldie's  invitation,  was  still  lingering 
at  Dundargue. 

To  Allan,  Olive  had  become  a  part  of 
his  life,  and  each  day  seemed  only  to  begin 
when  he  met  her  at  breakfast  in  her 
charming  morning  toilette,  fresh  from  her 
bath  and  the  hands  of  Mademoiselle  Clair- 
ette,  her  hair  dressed  to  perfection,  and 
her  face  radiant  with  health  and  beauty. 

'  How  often  do  T  wish  she  had  not  a 
sous  /'  sighed  Allan.  '  Then  she  might 
learn  that  I  love  her  for  herself  alone.' 

The  curious  position  in  which  they  were 
placed  relatively  made  the  cousins  most 
strange  to  each  other,  involving  much 
constraint. 


THE  RIDING-PAETY.  149 

'  They  are  fencing  with  their  feelings,' 
was  Lord  Aberfeldie's  conviction. 

To  Evan  Cameron,  however,  it  was  evi- 
dent that  Holcroft  was  *  making  all  the 
running  he  could '  during  Allan's  absences 
after  the  game,  or  apparent  occupation 
with  laughing  Ruby  Logan,  while  it  became 
evident  to  Sir  Paget  and  more  than  one 
other  guest  that  he  got  up  many  a  quiet 
game  at  ecarte — that  most  rooking  of  all 
games — and  many  a  match  at  billiards 
after  the  ladies  had  retired ;  and  it  was 
soon  remarked  by  the  same  close  observers 
that  he  was  a  singularly  successful  player, 
often  pocketing  large  sums,  seldom  losing, 
and  then  very  slenderly,  as  if  to  keep  up 
appearances. 

At  Dundargue  he  felt  himself  in  clover ! 
He  knew,  or  was  aware  instinctively,  that 
neither  Lady  Aberfeldie  nor  the  Master 
cared  much  about  him ;  but  he  also  knew 
that  his  host  was  inspired  by  the  kindliest 


150  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERPELDIE. 

feeliDgs  towards  him  as  the  only  son  of  an 
early  friend  and  gallant  old  Crimean  com- 
rade who  had  gone  to  his  long  home. 

If  any  rule  governed  the  erratic  life  of 
the  horsey  and  gambling  Holcroft,  it  was 
that  of  resolutely  shutting  his  eyes  against 
to-morrow,  and  letting  it  take  care  of 
itself ;  and,  now  that  there  was  a  prospect 
of  winning  a  wife  with  money — and  such 
a  chance  seldom  came  his  way — could  he 
but  play  his  cards  well  and  surely,  his 
fortune  would  be  made  ! 

He  was  a  mass  of  absolute  selfishness — 
the  result  either  of  his  innate  nature  or  of 
his  nomadic  habits.  A  life-long  bankrupt, 
he  had  been  ever  readier  to  borrow  than 
to  lend,  to  smoke  any  other  fellow's  cigars 
than  his  own,  and  to  take  every  advantage 
of  the  honourable  and  unsuspecting. 

Such  was  the  perilous  inmate  which  a 
mistaken  sense  of  kindness,  gratitude,  and 
hospitality  had  induced  Lord  Aberfeldie  to 


THE  EIDING-PARTY.  151 

make  one  of  the  family  circle  at  Dundar- 
gue  during  the  shooting  season;  and  to 
whom  the  advent  of  the  bangle — which, 
though  it  slipped  easily  upon  his  wrist, 
most  mysteriously  would  not  come  oS  it — 
and  other  adventitious  circumstances,  the 
real  cause  of  which  he  did  not  know,  gave 
a  considerable  amount  of  what  he  termed 
to  himself  '  modest  assurance '  and  con- 
fidence of  ultimate  success. 

'  I  should  like  to  come  into  a  nice  little 
pot  of  money — a  fortune,  if  you  will — but 
7iot  with  a  girl  tacked  to  it,'  he  said,  on 
one  occasion,  to  throw  Allan  '  off  the 
scent,'  as  he  thought.  '  I  am  neither  do- 
mestic nor  ambitious.  A  few  thousands 
w^ould  do.' 

'  And  make  you  content  ?' 

*  Content !  I  should  feel  as  happy  as 
more  than  once  I  have  been  at  Monaco, 
when  I  have  seen  the  croupier's  rake 
pushing   a    jolly  pile   of   gold   across  the 


152  THE  MASTEE  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

trente'et-quarante  table  towards  me,  bj 
Jove.' 

It  did  not  occur  to  him  that  by  little 
speeches  like  this  and  anecdotes  about  his 
own  acumen  in  the  bettiug  rin^,  he  let  a 
little  light  in  upon  the  general  tenor  of 
his  past  and  present  life,  and,  all  uncon- 
scious that  Sir  Paget  and  others  listened 
with  slightly  elevated  eyebrows,  he  would 
produce  a  sealskin  cigar-case  of  portentous 
dimensions,  draw  therefrom  a  great  Eio 
Hondo  cigar,  and  after  carefully  manipu- 
lating it,  begin  to  smoke  it  with  intense 
satisfaction. 

Hawke  Holcroft,  like  Mr.  Micawber, 
was  always  waiting  for  something  to  ^  turn 
up '  in  the  way  of  good  for  himself,  and 
now  thought  he  had  found  that  something 
in  Olive  Kaymond — an  heiress  free,  he 
deemed,  to  choose  for  herself — free  to  be 
wooed  and  won ;  and  on  a  day  when  she 
proposed  a  riding-party  to  visit  Macbeth's 


THE  EIDTNG-PARTy.  .   153 

Castle  of  Dunsinane  he  very  nearly  had 
the  hardihood  to  learn  his  fate — in  the 
words  of  Montrose's  song,  to  put  it  '  to  the 
touch,  to  win  or  lose  it  all.' 

Drives,  riding-parties,  and  rambles  to 
visit  artistic  bits  of  scenery  and  the  rural 
lions  the  neighbourhood  afforded  every 
opportunity  to  those  who  wished  to  culti- 
vate each  other's  society  at  Dundargue, 
and  the  expedition  proposed  by  Olive  to 
visit  the  ruins  of  the  ursurper's  castle, 
proved  the  occasion  of  Mr.  Hawke  Hol- 
croft's  attempt  to  advance  his  own  in- 
terests. 

Whatever  Lady  Aberfeldie's  views  were, 
her  husband  had  never  been  called  upon 
to  fulfil  the  duties  of  a  vigilant  guardian 
or  parent,  and  to  study  the  difference  be- 
tween '  detrimentals '  and  married  parties, 
so  he  left  the  o-uidance  of  the  whole  affair 
in  the  hands  of  Allan,  and  remained  clos- 
eted with  his  solicitor. 


154  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

By  judicious  manoeuvring,  Holcroft  con- 
trived to  pair- off  with  Olive,  wliile  Allan 
thus  became  the  escort  of  Ruby  Logan, 
and  Eveline,  of  course,  fell  to  Sir  Paget, 
who  soon  found  the  truth  of  the  vulgar 
adage  about  two  being  company,  &c.,  on 
their  being  joined  by  Stratherroch. 

It  was  a  clear  and  brilliant  day  early  in 
October,  when  the  blue  sky  was  flecked 
by  fleecy  clouds,  and  the  far -stretching 
scenery  of  the  fertile  Carse,  overlooked 
by  the  long  chain  of  heights,  named  the 
Sidlaw  Hills,  lay  steeped  in  sunshine. 

The  parks  of  Dundargue,  with  their 
broad  acres  of  velvet-like  turf,  their  stately 
oaks  and  towering  beeches,  among  the  gnarl- 
ed branches  of  which  legions  of  gleds  were 
cawing  to  each  other,  and  brown  squirrels 
were  gliding  to  and  fro ;  their  hedges  of 
ancient  thorn,  and  others  where  the 
hawthorn  berries  showed  red  and  the  wild 
roses   were  blooming — the  parks,  we  say, 


THE  El  DING-PARTY.  155 

were  left  behind,  with  all  their  groups  of 
deer,  and  the  party,  certainly  a  merry  and 
a  well-mounted  one,  accompanied  by  the 
staghounds  Shiuloch  and  Bran,  careering 
joyously  on  either  hand,  followed  by  a 
couple  of  splendidly-horsed  grooms,  can- 
tered along  the  highway,  and  ere  long 
broke,  or  fell,  into  that  slow  and  ambling 
pace  which  is  suited  for  conversing  with 
ease.  And  Holcroft,  who  was  well  versed 
in  all  horsey  details,  and  had  a  very 
appreciative  eye,  could  see  that  his  fair 
companion's  tout  ensemble^  her  riding 
costume,  her  hat,  veil,  and  gauntlets  were 
all  perfect,  from  the  coils  of  brown  glossy 
hair  to  the  little  foot  that  rested  j&rmly  in 
its  tiny  stirrup  of  burnished  steel ;  and 
that  foot  was  indeed  a  model — arched, 
small,  and  always  full  of  character  in  its 
elasticity  of  tread ;  and,  more  than  all, 
intoxicated  by  the  ambient  air,  the 
sunshine,    her   own  high  spirits,  and    the 


156  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

pleasure  of  bein^  mounted  on  her  own 
favourite  pad,  Olive  Eaymond  was  looking 
her  brightest  and  her  best. 

He  had,  while  engaging  all  her  attention 
in  conversation,  contrived,  unknown  to 
her,  by  the  pacing  of  his  horse,  to  leave 
the  trio  referred  to  at  some  distance  be- 
hind ;  while,  luckily  for  him,  Allan  Gra- 
ham, lured  on  by  Euby  Logan — who  was 
something  between  a  flirt  and  a  hoyden — 
had  gone  ahead  with  her  suddenly  at  a 
hand-gallop,  and  now  the  pair  were  out  of 
sight. 

There  could  be  no  engagement,  despite 
all  rumour  thereof — not  even  a  passing 
fancy — between  the  cousins,  was  now 
Holcroft's  conviction,  and  of  his  own  ulti- 
mate success  with  Olive  he  began  to  have 
little  doubt,  could  he  but  warily  mould  her 
to  his  purpose;  and  already  in  fancy  he 
saw  her  thousands — how  many  there  were 
he  knew  not — firmly  in  his  grasp. 


THE  EIDINa-PAETY.  157 

Though  swallowed  up  by  mortgages, 
his  place  in  Essex — or  the  few  acres  that 
nominally  still  remained  to  him  there — 
caused  the  retention  of  his  name  among 
the  '  landed  gentry  of  England,'  and  he 
based  much  upon  that  circumstance  as 
aiding  his  designs  on  Lord  Aberfeldie's 
ward,  to  whom  he  had  sometimes  dropped 
glowing  hints  of  possession  that  were  not 
nor  ever  had  been  his. 

Something  undefined  in  Olive's  manner 
rather  encouraged  him  on  this  day.  She, 
to  show  that  she  resented  the  apparent 
indifference  of  Allan  as  being  a  '  laggard 
in  love,'  even  while  resenting  the  tenor  of 
that  family  compact  which  was  meant  to 
bind  them  together,  was  disposed  to  flirt 
with  Holcroft,  out  of  pique  rather  than 
precise  preference,  and  to  annoy  Allan. 

With  the  latter  present  now,  Holcroft 
became  at  times  a  species  of  difficulty  to 
Olive.     During  a  past  season  in  London 


158     THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

there  had  been  sundry,  not  exactly  love- 
passages,  but  little  coquettings  and  linger- 
ings  in  conservatories  that  nearly  amounted 
to  such  ;  and  he,  in  ignorance  of  the  foot- 
ing in  which  she  was  regarded  by  the 
family,  was  quite  inclined,  penniless  as  he 
was,  or  nearly  so,  to  revive,  if  not  im- 
prove, past  relations  ;  and  this  had  been 
his  object  from  the  first  day  he  came  to 
Dundargue. 

And  now  'that  muscular  idiot  the  Mas- 
ter,' as  he  was  in  the  habit  of  mentally 
calling  Allan,  having  cantered  out  of  sight, 
he  addressed  himself  more  fully  to  his 
companion  and  the  matter  in  hand. 

'  I  enjoy  town  to  the  full — none  can  do 
so  more — when  I  am  there,  but  I  love — 
oh,  I  do  love — the  country !'  replied  Olive, 
in  reply  to  a  remark  of  Holcroft's  about 
their  last  London  season. 

'  It  is  always  very  romantic,  of  course, 
and  all  that  sort  of  thing.' 


THE  EIDING-PARTY.  159 

*And  with  pleasant  people  about  one, 
the  country  becomes  so  delightful  for  a 
time  ;  and  then  we  girls  have  such  perfect 
freedom  here.' 

^  Even  an  escort  is  not  necessary  at 
times/ 

'Unless  in  the  park — beyond  that  I 
always  like  to  have  one,'  said  Olive. 

'  Are  you  pleased  to  have  iiie  for  one  ?' 
he  asked,  in  a  low  voice,  and  pretty 
pointedly. 

'  Of  course,'  she  answered,  frankly. 

'  How  charming  to  be  at  hand  in  case 
of  danger !' 

'  What  possible  danger  ?'  asked  Olive, 
with  surprise. 

'  Oh,  the  untimely  appearance  of  an  in- 
furiated stag  or  the  proverbial  mad  bull 
of  the  three-volume  novel.' 

'  "Why  not  a  brigand  or  a  Bengal  tiger  ?' 
said  Olive,  laughing ;  then,  suddenly  be- 
coming grave,   she   added — '  But,  by  the 


160     THE  MASTER  OF  ABEEFELDIE. 

way,  talking  of  Bengal,  please  to  give  me 
back  my  bangle.' 

*  Why  ?' 

'  Simply  because  I  cannot  permit  you 
to  retain  it,'  she  replied,  little  foreseeing 
to  what  the  natural  request  might  lead. 

'  Do  not  deprive  me  of  it !'  he  urged, 
softly  and  entreatingly. 

*  Why  ?'  asked  she,  in  return  ;  '  for  what 
reason.  It  is  impossible — what  may  peo- 
ple say  ?' 

'  What  they  please,  if  seen,  which  it 
never  shall  be.' 

'  What  might  they  not  think  ?' 

'  Oh,  what  does  it  matter  ?'  he  urged 
again,  with  much  would-be  sadness  and 
tenderness. 

'  Little  to  you,  perhaps,  but  much  to 
me,'  retorted  Olive ;  ^  but  I  do  not  choose 
that  aught  should  be  either  thought  or  said 
about  it.  We  shall  certainly  be  accused  of 
flirting.' 


THE  EIDING-PARTT.  161 

*  No,  no,  Miss  Raymond  —  ob,  no, 
Olive ' 

*  Olive !'  she  repeated,  in  a  startled 
manner. 

'Pardon  me — none  could  ever  accuse 
me  of  flirting  with  you — that  were  an  im- 
possibility— for  deeper  thoughts ' 

^  My  bangle,  please,  Mr.  Holcroft,  and  at 
once !'  she  said,  imperatively,  in  dread  of 
what  more  he  might  say. 

She  held  forth  her  hand,  but  the  trinket 
either  would  not  come  off  his  wrist,  or  he 
pretended  that  such  was  the  case.  Olive 
tried  to  remove  it,  but  in  vain,  and  glanc- 
ed round  her,  red  with  vexation.  Her 
hand  was  gloved,  otherwise  she  would 
have  felt  how  unpleasantly  cold  and  clam- 
my were  the  fingers  of  her  would-be 
lover. 

'Allow  me  to  retain  it,  even  for  a  time 
— though  would  that  I  might  wear  it  in 
my  grave — for  a  time,  in  memory  of  the 

VOL.  T.  M 


162     THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

darling  hopes  I  have  dared  to  cherish,'  he 
whispered,  in  a  manner  there  could  be  no 
mistaking  now. 

*  Spare  me  this  melodramatic  sort  of 
thing,  Mr.  Holcroft/  said  Olive,  growing 
rather  pale  ;  '  I  cannot — must  not  listen 
to  you.' 

'  Why — what  do  you  mean  ?' 

*  That  there  are  obstacles  between  us, 
even  were  there  not  the  want  of  liking,' 
she  replied,  decidedly,  but  with  an  agitated 
voice. 

*  Obstacles?'    he    repeated,    inquiringly, 

sadly,  and  certainly  with  an  air   of  disap* 

pointment;  'ami  now  to   understand  that 

you  are  engaged  to  the  Master  of  Aberfel- 

die,  as  these  absurd  Scots  people  call  him  ?' 

Olive  bit  her  ruddy  nether  lip  at  this 
home  question ;  but  made  no  reply. 

'  What  enigma  is  this  ?  You  either  are 
or  you  are  not.    If  not,  why  may  not  I ' 

'  I  dare  not  listen  to  this  style   of  con- 


THE  EIDING-PARTY.  163 

versation,'  interrupted  Olive,  with  positive 
annoyance ;  '  and  you  have  no  right  to 
force  it  upon  me.' 

'  After  all  that  has  passed  ?'  said  he, 
reproachfully,  and  rather  feeling  as  if  his 
hopes  were  melting  into  air. 

'  I  do  not  understand  you,'  replied  Olive, 
whose  conscience  certainly  did  reproach 
her. 

*  If  I  force  this  conversation — '  he  began 
in  a  bitter  and  rather  upbraiding  tone, 
then  pausing  ;  '  pardon  me  if  I  offend,'  he 
resumed,  with  what  seemed  growing  sad- 
ness, while  attempting  to  touch  her  hand, 
yet  withdrawing  his  own  in  apparent  tim- 
idity. '  But  am  I  wrong  in  deeming  your 
engagement — or  alleged  engagement,  as 
rumour  says,  made  when  you  were  a  child 
— one  in  which  your  woman's  heart  and 
wishes  have  not  been  consulted  ?  Tell  me 
— for  1  may  have  to  leave  Dundargue  soon 
now.' 

M  2 


164     THE  MASTER  OF  ABEREELDIE. 

She  was  in  some  respects  but  a  weak 
girl ;  he  a  crafty  and  wily  man  of  the 
world ;  and,  though  he  knew  it  not  in  the 
least,  he  was  touching  her  on  a  very  ten- 
der point — yet  she  replied,  firmly  enough, 

'  You  have  no  right  to  question  me  ;  but 
say,  what  has  Allan  done  to  you  that  your 
face  should  darken  at  the  mention  of  his 
name  ?     Is  he  not  your  friend  ?' 

*  He  was.' 

*  And  now ' 

'  He  is  no  longer  so.' 
'Why?' 

*  He  is  my  rival.' 

She  coloured  to  her  temples  at  this 
blunt  reply,  and  all  it  inferred. 

'  I  loved  you  long  before  you  ever  cared 
for  me,'  he  resumed,  coolly. 

*  Sir — how  dare  you  say  I  ever  cared  for 
you?'  exclaimed  Olive,  her  cheeks  aflame 
now;  'let  this  subject  cease,  and  be  re- 
sumed no  more  !' 


THE  EIDING-PAETY.  165 

'  It  breaks  my  heart  to  bear  you  speak 
thus.' 

'  Hearts  don't  break  now-a-days,  even  in 
such  romantic  places  as  Dundargue,'  said 
she,  with  a  sharp  little  laugh  ;  '  and  here 
this  matter  ends.' 

He  bowed  in  silence ;  but,  fatally  per- 
haps for  Allan's  interests  and  her  own,  she 
thought,  and  her  vanity  was  flattered  by 
the  idea : 

'  Holcroft  loves  me,  despite  the  tenor  of 
papa's  will — loves  me,  for  myself,  of 
course ;  while  Allan  knoivs  its  value  to 
himself !  Surely  there  is  a  difference  in 
this !' 

But  it  was  precisely  because  Holcroft 
knew  neither  of  the  will  nor  its  spirit  that 
he  took  the  courage  to  address  her  as  he 
did.  Had  he  done  so,  that  enterprising 
gentleman  would  speedily  have  '  dropped 
out  of  the  hunt,'  and,  so  far  as  he  is  con- 
cerned, we  should  then  have  no  story  to  tell. 


1  66  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

Meanwhile  he  did  not  lose  heart,  and 
thought  he  had  only  to  wait  the  fulness  of 
time  for  the  certainty  of  winning  her,  and 
with  her,  wealth — ^of  joy  or  happiness  he 
took  no  heed  at  all. 

By  this  time,  greatly  to  Olive's  relief, 
Eveline  and  her  two  swains  had  overtaken 
them,  and  so  the  matter  dropped,  though 
the  minds  of  both,  from  two  points  of 
view,  were  full  of  it.  She  would  now 
have  to  endure  the  double  annoyance  of 
being  daily  in  the  society  of  a  lover  who 
had  addressed  her  as  such,  and  of  an 
intended  lover  who  had  scarcely  yet  ap- 
proached the  subject ! 

And,  for  some  reason  only  known  to  her- 
self, she  did  not  tell  Eveline,  though  her 
bosom-friend,  of  what  had  passed  between 
herself  and  Holcroft.  The  latter,  how- 
ever, still  retained  the  golden  bangle  on 
which  her  name  was  engraved  ;  but  for  a 
time  now    there  was    something   in    her 


THE  EIDING-PARTY.  167 

manner  little  to  the  liking  of  Hawke  Hol- 
croft — full  as  he  was  of  dreams  of  her,  or 
of  her  fortune  rather — of  the  risks  he  ran, 
and  the  shifts  to  which  he  might  be  put 
ere  he  handled  it. 


168 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  PICNIC  AT  DUNSINANE. 

Ambling  on  together  and  urging  their 
horses,  but  at  an  easy  pace,  they  soon 
drew  near  the  object  of  their  destination — 
Macbeth's  famous  castle  of  Dunsinane — 
whither  the  portly  old  butler,  Mr.  Tapple- 
ton,  had  preceded  them  in  a  wagonette, 
freighted  with  a  luxurious  luncheon  ;  and, 
leaving  their  cattle  in  charge  of  the  grooms, 
they  began  the  ascent  of  that  peak  of  the 
Sidlaw  Hills  which  has  been  immortalised 
by  Shakespeare. 

With  her  riding-skirt  thrown  over  her 
left  arm,  Eveline  acted  as  their  guide,  and 


THE  PICNIC  AT  DUNSINANE.  169 

it  may  easily  be  supposed  that  she  solicited 
the  assistance  of  Cameron's  arm,  rather 
than  that  of  Sir  Paget  Puddicombe,  who 
had  quite  enough  to  do  in  assisting  himself 
up  a  path  vv'hich  proved  to  him,  as  he  said, 
^  rather  a  breather.' 

It  was  a  winding  road  cut  in  the  rock, 
all  the  other  sides  being  steep  and  difficult 
of  access,  and  ere  long,  on  reaching  the 
flat  and  fertile  summit,  which  commands  a 
magnificent  view  of  Strathmore  and  Blair- 
gowrie, they  found  themselves  within  the 
strong  rampart  and  deep  fosse  of  what  has 
once  been  a  great  military  station  of  oval 
form,  two  hundred  and  ten  feet  long,  by 
one  hundred  and  thirty  broad ;  and  there 
they  found  Allan  and  Ruby  Logan,  who 
had  preceded  them,  in  full  possession  of 
the  highest  point,  whence  he  was  directing 
her  attention  to  the  chief  features  in  the 
scenery,  including,  of  course,  Birnam 
Wood,    fifteen   miles  distant,   '  The  Lang 


170  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

Man's  Grave,'  a  great  stone,  under  wliicli 
Macbeth  is  said  to  lie — Ruby  the  while 
clinofinof  to  his  arm  in  the  exuberance  of 
her  delight,  and  carrying  her  riding-hat 
in  her  hand,  as  she  was  quite  aware  that 
her  hair  alone,  in  its  wonderful  luxuriance, 
made  her  very  attractive,  it  being  an  un- 
ruly mass  of  rich,  rippling  golden  amber  in 
hue,  shot  with  a  redder  and  brighter  tint 
at  times  when  the  sunlight  struck  it. 

Under  the  splendour  of  a  glorious  noon, 
while  a  soft  breeze  rippled  the  verdant 
grass,  the  luncheon  was  proceeded  with ; 
fowls  were  dissected,  pies  investigated, 
champagne  and  hock,  cool  from  the  ice- 
pails,  uncorked ;  all  the  requisites  for  a 
merry  party  were  there,  and  yet  in  the 
party  itself  the  chief  element  of  high 
spirits  was  wanting,  unless  in  the  instance 
of  Euby  Logan,  who  began  to  flatter  her- 
self that  she  had  made — or  nearly  so — a 
conquest  of  the  Master  of  Aberfeldie. 


THE  PICNIC  AT  DDNSINANE.  l7l 

Oppressed  with  the  tenor  of  the  con- 
versation that  had  so  recently  passed 
between  herself  and  Mr.  Holcroft,  Olive 
Kaymond  was  unusually  silent,  and,  for 
her,  distraite;  and  he,  remembering  the 
somewhat  decided  '  snub '  she  had  so  un- 
expectedly given  him,  was  somewhat  silent 
too,  but  sought  consolation  in  champagne, 
while  listening  rather  abstractedly  to  Sir 
Paget  Puddicombe  descanting  on  the  tra- 
ditions of  the  neighbourhood,  as,  in  guide- 
book fashion,  he  knew  all  about  the 
predictions  of  the  weird  sisters,  the  defeat 
and  death  of  the  usurper,  and  was  full  of 
the  probability  that  the  great  dramatist 
had  visited  Dunsinane  in  person. 

But  Holcroft  only  quaffed  his  liquor, 
tugged  his  tawny  moustache  from  time  to 
time,  and  listened  with  an  air  of  boredom, 
mingled  with  a  quizzical  expression  of 
mistrust  in  his  pale  grey  shifty  eyes. 

He  had  seen  Macbeth  on  the  stage,  of 


172     THE  MASTER  OP  ABEREELDIE. 

course,  and  endured  him  more  than  once  ; 
but  of  the  Thane  of  Cawdor  he  knew  no 
more  than  what  he  had  seen  of  him  behind 
the  footlights,  and  had  cared  to  learn  no 
more ;  and  now  it  was  with  some  genuine 
Cockney  bewilderment,  as  he  looked  at 
the  massive  trenches  around  him,  he  began 
to  think  that  '  some  such  fellow  had  existed 
then.' 

Eveline  and  young  Cameron,  under  Sir 
Paget's  eye,  were  both  reserved  and  triste, 
and  no  wine  seemed  capable  of  rousing 
animation  in  the  lover.  He  had  but  one 
thought — the  end  of  his  leave  was  ap- 
proaching, and  when  he  left  Dundargue 
he  might  never  again  see  Eveline  Graham. 
His  heart  was  heavy. 

When  the  trio  were  riding  together,  it 
was  not  that  the  eyes  of  Eveline  disap- 
pointed him,  or  that  she  did  not  converse 
with  him  fully  and  earnestly ;  but  he  had 
detected  in  the  manner  of  Sir  Paget  a  pro- 


THE  PICNIC  AT  DUNSINANE.  173 

vokiDg  air  of  proprietary  and  confidence 
with  regard  to  her  that  keenly  piqued  him, 
and  could  only  have  been  born,  he  rightly 
conjectured,  of  some  recent  confidential 
arrangement  with  Lord  Aberfeldie  ;  but 
the  young  girl  herself  was  sweetly  uncon- 
scious of  it  all. 

His  responses  had  been  brief,  and  he 
had  ventured  on  few  remarks,  aware  that 
little  would  escape  unnoticed  ;  thus  he  had 
been  somewhat  silent,  while  Sir  Paget's 
easy-going  old  roadster  ambled  between 
the  horses  of  himself  and  Eveline,  going 
pace  for  pace,  Sir  Paget's  head  at  each 
jerking  forward  in  turtle  fashion. 

The  trio  still  remained  together  when 
seated  on  the  grass  at  luncheon,  for 
neither  of  the  gentlemen  were  disposed 
to  quit  the  side  of  Eveline,  whose  colour 
might  have  been  noticed  to  heighten  at 
a  question  Sir  Paget  asked  Cameron,  of 
whom  he  certainly  had  a  certain  jealousy. 


174     THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

'  Where  does  your  property  of  Strather- 
roch  lie,  Mr.  Cameron  ?' 

'  In  Inverness-shire.' 

'  Ah  ! — mountainous,  of  course — good 
shooting  for  those  who  care  for  such 
things — not  that  I  do.  Is  the  land  very 
remunerative  now  ?' 

'  To  others — not  to  me,'  said  Cameron, 
a  little  bitterly.  '  A  fair  inheritance  would 
be  mine,  Sir  Paget,  were  Stratherroch 
unencumbered.  My  father  was  a  wild 
fellow  in  his  day — as  what  Highland  laird 
is  not  ?  How  some  acres  were  mortgaged 
in  succession,  how  others  went  in  ioto, 
heaven  only  knows — I  don't.  The  estate 
is  at  nurse  now ;  one  day  it  will  be  mine 
again — but  not  for  years ;  and  I  was  too 
long  foolishly  sentimental  about  it.' 

'  How  ?'  asked  Sir  Paget. 

'  I  thought  I  would  rather  that  the  manor- 
house  fell  to  ruins  than  pass,  even  tem- 
porarily, into  the  possession  of  strangers 


THE  PICNIC  AT  DUNSINANE.  175 

— of  others  than  a  Cameron  ;  and  now,  by 
Jove  !  it  has  been  for  years  occupied  by 
one  Jones  Smithson,  of  Manchester.' 

*  Whose  rental  is  clearing  it  ?' 

'  Yes ;  and  meantime  I  have  little  more 
in  this  world  than  my  claymore  and  com- 
mission in  the  Black  Watch,'  said  Cameron, 
with  a  somewhat  hollow  laugh  and  a  swift, 
sad  glance  at  Eveline ;  while  Sir  Paget 
smiled  complacently  as  he  thought  of  the 
balance  at  his  bankers,  and  the  fat,  un- 
fettered acres  that  lay  round  Slough-cum- 
Sloggit. 

'  I  hope  you  do  not  find  Dundargue  dull, 
Sir  Paget  ?'  said  Eveline,  to  change  a  con- 
versation that  rather  oppressed  her,  as  she 
was  sharp  enough  to  divine  the  thoughts 
of  both  men. 

'  Assuredly  not,  Miss  Graham ;  how 
could  it  be  so  when  I  am  enabled  to  renew 
my  intimacy  with  one  who  can  cast,  as  it 
were,  bright  sunshine  in  the  most  shady 


]  76  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

place  ?'  he  replied,  witb  an  unusual  jerk  of 
his  head,  a  glance  of  eye,  and  accentuation 
of  voice  that  annoyed  her  greatly,  while 
Cameron's  lip  quivered  under  his  moustache 
with  mingled  irritation  and  amusement. 

And  now  at  luncheon,  inspired  by  a  few 
bumpers  of  Clicquot,  Sir  Paget's  glances  at 
Eveline  took  occasionally  the  fashion  of 
grotesque  and  languishing  leers. 

The  wealthy  baronet  was  older  than  she 
by  a  great  many  years,  but  they  by  no 
means  warranted  him  being  safe  from  a 
love,  or  passion  rather,  that  might  prove 
cruel  as  the  grave — the  passion  of  a  middle- 
aged  man  for  a  very  handsome  young  girl, 
whose  parents  were  f ally  disposed  to  fur- 
ther his  views  and  their  own.  It  has  been 
said  that  '  people  for  the  life  of  them 
cannot  be  said  to  believe  in  the  love  pangs 
of  a  man  over  forty,  or  of  a  woman  over 
twenty-nine,'  but  people  may  at  times  be 
wrong. 


THE  PICNIC  AT  DUNSINANE.  177 

The  present  epoch  was  rather  a  trying 
one  to  Cameron  and  Eveline.  As  she  had 
admitted  to  Allan,  she  knew  that  he  loved 
her  with  a  love  unselfish  and  unspoken  ; 
and  he  felt  intuitively  that  he  was  far  from 
indifferent  to  her — knew  it  by  the  inde- 
scribable, untaught,  and  nameless  signs  by 
which  a  man  learns  instinctively  that  a 
woman  loves  him — in  a  first  passion,  a 
most  intoxicating  conviction ;  yet  circum- 
stances blended  the  happiness  of  Cameron 
with  much  that  was  alloy. 

To  avoid  attentions  or  would-be  tender 
speeches  that  might  annoy  poor  Cameron, 
Eveline  found  herself  compelled  to  talk 
intently  to  Sir  Paget  about  local  traditions 
and  superstitions,  and,  thanks  to  her  old 
nurse  Nannie,  she  had — for  a  fashionable 
young  lady  of  the  present  day — a  curious 
repertoire  of  stories  about  wraiths  and 
warnings,  Daione  Shi  and  other  fairies, 
who  were  wont    in    pre-railway   times    to 

VOL.  I.  N 


178  THE  MASTER  OF  ABEEFELDIE. 

haunt     tlie     corries,    cairns,    and    rocks. 

'  Have  you  no  gliosis  in  or  about  Dun- 
dargue  ?'  asked  Sir  Paget.  '  A  grand  old 
mansion  is  scarcely  complete  without  some 
such  spectral  visitor.' 

'  Surely  that  oubliette,  whatever  it  is,  of 
which  J  have  heard  more  than  once,  must 
contain  something  of  the  kind  ?'  said  Hol- 
croft,  in  a  covert,  but  detestable  kind  of 
sneering  tone,  which  he  could  adopt  when 
his  own  interests  were  not  concerned. 

'  In  the  gallery  that  leads  to  it  I  have 
heard  of  something  strange,'  said  Allan. 

'  Oh,  do  tell  us — what  is  seen  there  ?' 
exclaimed  Ruby  Logan. 

*  Nothing — but  old  servants  have  a  story 
to  the  effect  that  if  anyone  remains  long 
there,'  replied  Allan,  laughing,  '  they  are 
certain  to  have  a  strong  sense  of  shadowy 
forms  —  intangible  presences  —  hovering 
near  them,  and  dare  not  turn  their  heads 
to  see  what  they  are.' 


THE  PICNIC  AT  DUNSINANE.  179 

*We  have  no  decided  ghosts,  thank 
Heaven  !'  said  Eveline,  laughing-,  and  all 
unconscious  of  Holcroft's  manner.  '  There 
are  none  even  in  the  palaces  of  Holjrood 
or  Falkland,  where  terrible  things  have 
been  done,  so  why  should  there  be  in  poor 
old  Dundargue  ?  But  a  spot  close  by 
where  we  are  now  lunching  is  the  alleged 
scene  of  a  curious  event — a  ver}^  dark 
tradition  in  our  family  history.' 

'  Why  recur  to  a  story  so  absurd  ?'  said 
Allan. 

But  she  was  pressed  to  explain  herself, 
and  with  a  shy,  sweet  smile  in  her  eyes 
as  she  glanced  from  time  to  time  at  Evan 
Cameron,  and  a  wonderfully  musical  modu- 
lation of  voice,  she  told  her  tale,  but  not 
quite  as  old  nurse  Nannie  had  told  it  to 
her. 

'  The  deep,  rocky  dell  that  lies  between 
this  and  Dundargue,  a  few  miles  distant, 
was   ever  in   past  times  what  we  find  it 

N  2 


ISO  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

now,  covered  with  dense  forest-trees,  ming- 
led with  alders  and  silver  birches  so  thick- 
ly as  to  exclude  the  rays  of  the  sun,  and 
it  was  said  to  be  the  haunt  of  a  Urisk  or 
mountain-goblin — a  species  of  fiend  which, 
Sir  Walter  Scott  says,  tradition  avers  to 
have  had  a  figure  half-man  and  half-goat.' 

'  In  short,  the  Grecian  satyr  of  classical 
antiquity,'  said  Allan,  laughing. 

'  Be  that  as  it  may,  the  existence  of  this 
particular  Urisk  was  never  fairly  proved 
until  the  days  of  one  of  our  ancestors, 
Malise  Graham  of  Dundargue,  who  fought 
at  the  battle  of  Ben  Einnes  against  the 
Reformers,  and  had  in  hiding  in  the 
'*  Priest's  Hole,"  as  it  is  still  called,  in 
the  keep,  a  wandering  Scottish  Benedic- 
tine, known  only  as  James  of  Jerusalem. 

'  Now,  Malise  Graham  had  an  only 
daughter,  Muriel,  a  girl  possessed  of  that 
rare  and  soft  beauty- ' 

'  Which  is  still  the  inheritance  of  her 


THE  PICNIC  AT  DUNSINANE.  181 

family,'  said  Sir  Paget,  with  a  most  por- 
tentous jerk  of  his  head. 

'  Please  not  to  interrupt  me,  or  I  shall 
stop,'  exclaimed  Eveline,  with  unconcealed 
annoyance.  '  Muriel,  in  her  walks  near 
Dundargue,  had  made — unknown  to  her 
family — the  acquaintance  of  a  handsome 
young  stranger  of  winning  manners  and 
prepossessing  appearance. 

'  In  the  secluded  life  led  in  those  days 
by  a  maiden  of  rank,  such  an  event  was 
of  deep  and  peculiar  interest ;  love  speedi- 
ly became  the  sequel,  and  in  truth  the 
object  of  it  seemed  to  have  been  a  very 
Iqveable  fellow.  Thus  it  was,  with  many 
bitter  tears,  that  one  evening  she  told  him 
that  her  frequent  absence  from  home  had 
been  remarked,  and  that  she  must  meet 
him  no  more  in  that  wooded  hollow,  especi- 
ally as  it  was  the  haunt  of  goblins  and 
other  evil  spirits. 

'  On  hearing  this,  the  handsome  stranger 


182     TEE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

laughed  till  all  the  dell  seemed  to  re-echo, 
caressed  her  tenderly,  and,  after  urging  her 
on  peril  of  her  truth  and  soul  to  come 
to  the  trysting-place  at  least  once  again, 
left  her  in  haste,  as  some  one  was  seen  to 
approach  them. 

'  This  proved  to  be  James  of  Jerusa- 
lem, who  is  still  remembered  as  the  Black 
Priest  of  Dundargue.  He  wore  nothing 
that  was  canonical ;  to  have  done  so 
would  have  been  as  much  as  his  life  was 
worth  in  those  days ;  thus  he  was  clad  in 
a  sable  Geneva  cloak  and  doublet,  with 
falling  bands,  and  a  calotte  cap  of  black 
velvet  with  long  lappets. 

'He  looked  deadly  pale,  and  was  tremb- 
ling in  every  limb,  while  he  crossed  him- 
self again  and  again,  and  said,  in  a  low  and 
agitated  voice, 

'  ^'  Child  Muriel,  who  is  he  that  left  you 
in  such  hot  haste  just  now  ?" 

'  But  Muriel, 


THE  PICNIC  AT  DUNSINANE.  183 

"  Crimson  T\^th  shame,  with  terror  mute," 

terror  of  her  father,  who  was  a  stern  and 
rigid  man,  remained  silent. 

'  "  Speak,  unhappy  girl !"  urged  the 
priest. 

'"I  know  not  his  name,"  she  replied, 
faintly. 

"^Why?" 

'  "  He  conceals  it  from  me." 

*'^  And  why?" 

'  "  I  know  not ;  but  oh,  father,  guide  and 
counsel  me,  for  I  love  him  dearly,  as  he 
loves  me." 

*  "  You  must  meet  him -" 

'  "  Once  again,"  she  urged,  piteously. 

'  ''  Never  more,  I  meant  to  say — never 
more.     But  why  say  you  once  again  ?' 

'  "  I  have  promised,  on  my  soul's  peril." 

'  "  On  your  soul's  peril  indeed  !"  groaned 
the  priest,  in  great  tribulation ;  but,  in 
defiance  of  all  he  could  urge,  Muriel, 
though  she  lived  in  an  age  of  dark  super- 


184     THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

stitioD,  of  omens  and  dread,  inspired  by 
her  love,  stole  forth  at  the  usual  hour  and 
entered  the  dell  to  meet  her  lover,  for  the 
last  time,  as  it  proved. 

'  Perhaps  it  was  a  prevision  of  this  that 
made  the  wood  seem  so  dark  and  gloomy, 
and  even  the  knots  and  gnarled  branches 
of  the  trees  to  look  like  those  in  the  forest 
to  Undine,  fiendish  faces  and  freakish 
limbs. 

'Muriel  knew  in  her  heart  that  such 
meetings  were  wrong,  unbecoming  to  her 
position,  and  sinful  because  she  concealed 
them ;  but  a  spell  seemed  upon  her,  and 
she  could  not  resist  it.  She  took  no  heed 
of  the  future ;  she  had  but  one  thought,  to 
be  again  with  him. 

'  "And  oh  !  why  should  this  meeting  be 
our  last  one?"  she  wailed  in  her  heart, 
as  he  drew  her  to  him,  looking  so 
handsome  the  while  in  his  black  doublet 
slashed  with  red,  his  ruff  and  scarlet  plume. 


THE  PICNIC  AT  DUNSINANE.  185 

*  *'  My  own  !"  said  he,  caressingly  ;  "  my 
OWE,  1  am  aware  that  yonder  dotard,  fool 
and  knave,  the  mass-monger,  has  been 
seeking  to  influence  your  mind  against  me, 
and  to  part  us." 

' ''  And  here  he  stands  prepared  to  do 
so  !"  exclaimed  the  black  priest,  as  he  sud- 
denly appeared  beside  them,  his  eyes  spark- 
ling, but  strangely  with  fear,  rage,  and 
triumph  mingling  in  their  expression. 
Muriel's  lover  clasped  her  to  his  breast, 
and  wrapped  his  scarlet  mantle  round  her. 
Then,  w^hile  his  eyes  glared  with  a  fire 
which  fortunately  she  did  not  see,  he 
exclaimed, 

*  "  Stand  back,  canting  liar — stand  back, 
and  begone !" 

'  "  Child  Muriel,  come  to  me,  in  the 
name  of  God  !"  cried  the  priest,  in  sore 
agony  ;  but  she  still  clung  to  her  lover,  who, 
at  the  7iame  uttered,  cowered  and  shrank, 
as    in  the    opera    we    see  Mephistopheles 


186    ,       THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

cower  and  shrink  before  the  cross-hilted 
swords  of  the  soldiers. 

'  "  Muriel,  Muriel,  you  are  mine  !"  ex- 
claimed her  lover,  attempting  to  lift  her 
from  the  ground. 

'  "  Take  heed,  child,  ere  it  is  too  late," 
urged  the  priest. 

'  "  Dare  you  advise  ?"  asked  the  stranger, 
mockingly ;  "  does  not  one  day  judge 
another  ?" 

*  "  Yes,  and  the  last  day  judges  all — even 
such  as  you  !"  cried  the  benedictine  ;  then, 
making  a  sign  of  the  cross  in  the  air,  he 
exclaimed,  '  In  nomine  Patris  et  Filii ;  et 
Spiritus  Sancti!" 

*  Scarcely  had  he  done  so  when,  under 
the  power  of  his  exorcism,  the  mantle, 
ruff,  and  plume  of  the  pretended  knight 
turned  to  bracken  leaves,  his  goblin  chain 
to  wild  holly,  and  he  stood  forth  in  all  his 
deformity,  a  horror  to  the  eye,  half  man 
and  half  goat,   with  the  face  of  a  baflfled 


THE  PICNIC  AT  DUNSINANE.  187 

and  exasperated  fiend — the  Urisk,  or  wood 
goblin ;  and,  with  a  malignant  yell,  he 
vanished  down  the  fast-darkening  dingle !' 

'  And  Muriel  ?'  asked  Holcroft,  who  had 
listened  to  all  with  such  a  smile  as  his  face 
might  be  expected  to  wear. 

'  Was  saved,  of  course/  said  Eveline. 

'  And  lived  happy  ever  after  ?' 

'  "Well — content  at  least,  let  us  hope. 
She  died  a  nun  in  the  house  of  the  English 
Benedictines  at  Paris — now  the  convent  of 
the  Val  de  Grace.' 

'And  has  this  legend  a  moral?'  asked 
Holcroft,  mockingly. 

*  Of  course  it  has,'  answered  Allan,  rather 
bluntly,  yet  with  a  quiet  smile  ;  'it  gave  a 
good  hint  to  the  girls  at  Dundargue  to 
beware  of  the  attentions  of  unaccredited 
strangers.' 

Holcroft's  colour  changed  for  a  moment, 
and  not  unnoticed  by  Allan ;  for  perhaps, 
reading  between  the  lines,  all  this  seemed 


188  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

somewhat  a  parable  to  the  former,  who 
tugged  at  his  yellow  moustaches  in  a  way 
he  did  when  irritated,  heedless  that  pomade 
hon2:roise  was  disastrous  to  straw-coloured 
gloves. 

The  angry  gleam  that  crossed  the  eyes 
of  Holcroft  was  also  noticed  by  Evan 
Cameron,  who,  for  some  reason  as  yet 
only  known  to  himself,  could  not  abide 
him ;  though  certainly  the  latter  did  not 
cross  him  by  any  attentions  to  the  penni- 
less Eveline  Graham. 

Her  little  tradition  came  as  a  pleasant 
interlude  to  nearly  all,  for  save  Sir  Paget 
— always  confident  and  genial — no  one 
seemed  quite  at  ease,  as  a  sense  of  cross- 
purposes  brooded  over  them. 

^  Tappleton,'  cried  Allan  to  the  butler, 
'  another  glass  of  champagne  all  round  ; 
and  then  to  be  off,'  he  added,  swinging 
Olive  adroitly  into  her  saddle,  and  thus, 
as    he     thought,     anticipating     Holcroft, 


THE  PICNIC  AT  DUNSINANE.  189 

though  the  latter,  remembering  keenly 
his  recent  '  snub/  had  no  intention  of 
offering  his  services  just  then. 

Allan,  fearing  that  he  had  gone  rather 
too  far  with  Ruby  Logan  in  attempting  to 
pique  his  cousin,  now  resolved  to  leave 
that  young  lady  to  the  care  of  anyone  else 
in  their  homeward  ride,  much  to  her  sur- 
prise and  disappointment,  and  took  his 
place  by  the  side  of  Olive,  in  obedience  to 
a  half-inviting  glance  she  gave  him. 

He  and  his  sister  were,  of  course,  familiar 
since  childhood  with  the  ruins  of  Dunsin- 
ane  and  all  their  surroundings ;  but  to  two 
or  three  of  the  party,  as  they  turned  to 
depart,  and  saw  the  vast  ramparts  red- 
dened by  the  setting  sun,  there  came  to 
memory  the  scene  they  had  so  often  wit- 
nessed on  tlie  stage — Malcolm's  army  with 
the  boughs  of  Birnam  in  tbeir  helmets, 
the  *  alarms  and  excursions,*  the  fierce 
and  protracted  melo-dramatic  combat,  the 


190     THE  MASTER  OF  ABEREELDIE. 

downfall  of  Macbeth  beneatli  the  sword 
of  Macduff,  and  the  cries  of  *  Hail,  Kin^ 
of  Scotland — King  of  Scotland,  hail !' 


191 


CHAPTER  X. 


THE     GOLDEN     BANGLE, 


A  WRITER  says  '  there  is  the  beauty  of 
youth,  and  surely  there  is  the  beauty  of 
love,  too,'  and  the  latter  certainly  shone  in 
the  soft  eyes  of  Eveline  Graham  as  she 
caracoled  her  horse  in  the  homeward  ride 
by  the  side  of  young  Cameron,  and  her 
eyes,  which  were  ever  the  mystery  of  that 
face,  had  now  their  sweetest  smiles  for 
him.  She  saw  how  his  face  was  lighted 
up,  and  was  aware  how  his  voice  softened 
when  he  addressed  her  as  it  softened  to 
no  other  woman  ;  and  yet,  withal,  though 
no  word  of  love  had  passed  between  these 
two,  right  well  did  they  know  the  secret 


192  THE  MASTER  OF  ABEEFELDIE. 

of  eacli  other's  hearts ;  but  poverty  fet- 
tered his  tongue,  and  her  parents'  ambi- 
tion and  known  wishes  nearly  repressed  all 
hope  in  the  heart  of  Eveline. 

With  all  her  regard  for  her  father  she 
had  a  fear  of  him,  and  still  more  so  of  her 
mother.  All  their  prejudices  were  in 
favour  of  wealth  ;  but  Evan  Cameron  ap- 
peared to  her  altogether  so  dear  and  irre- 
sistible that  she,  poor  girl,  could  not  im- 
agine anyone  being  proof  against  him,  and 
with  this  conviction,  and  the  knowledge 
that  Allan  loved  him,  she  permitted  her- 
self occasionally  to  live  in  a  kind  of  fool's 
paradise,  wherein  Sir  Paget  Puddicombe 
had  no  part. 

When  her  mother  was  not  present,  she 
played  to  Evan  Cameron,  and  sang  his 
favourite  songs  ;  she  showed  him  her 
drawings  for  hints  and  suggestions,  dis- 
cussed her  favourite  books,  and  let  him 
hang  over  her  chair ;  and   at  such  times. 


THE  GOLDEN  BANGLE.  193 

thougli  nothing  of  love  was  said,  there 
was  a  subtle  tenderness  in  Cameron's  eye 
and  voice  that  made  her  impulsive  heart 
quicken,  as  no  man's  eye  or  voice  had  ever 
done  before,  and  young  though  she  was, 
Eveline  had  heard  more  than  one  declar- 
ation of  love. 

And  now  for  a  time  he  had  the  joy  of 
having  her  all  to  himself,  as  they  con- 
trived to  distance  the  rest  of  their  party. 

But  what  availed  it  ?  Evan  knew  that, 
if  once  he  passed  beyond  what  appeared 
to  be  the  merest  friendship,  his  visit  to 
Dundargue  might  come  to  a  speedy  end, 
and  its  hospitality  could  never  be  extend- 
ed to  him  again. 

To  Evan,  Eveline  Graham  proved,  it 
we  may  say  so,  a  kind  of  revelation  after 
the  rough  life  he  had  led  of  late  years  in 
India — something  from  another  world,  as 
it  were — and  thus  much  of  adoration  min- 
gled with  his  love  for  her.     If  dying  could 

VOL.  I.  0 


194  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFP]LDIE. 

have  served  Eveline,  there  and  then  would 
Evan  Cameron  have  died  for  her  ! 

Whether  such  enthusiastic  passion 
might  last  it  was  impossible  to  say,  but 
time  may  show. 

We  have  referred  to  the  quiet  confidence 
of  Sir  Paget  Puddicombe — a  confidence 
borne  of  his  consciousness  of  wealth  and 
assured  position.  However,  he  was  sharp 
enough  to  see  to  some  extent  how  Camer- 
on was  attracted  by  Eveline ,  and  to  feel 
how  the  latter  preferred  the  young  subal- 
tern's society  to  his  own  ;  but  in  a  very 
short  time  he  knew  that  the  '  detrimental,' 
as  Lady  Abergeldie  called  him,  would  be 
again  with  his  regiment,  the  Black  Watch, 
perhaps  under  orders  for  foreign  service  ; 
then  he  would  have  the  course  all  to  him- 
self, and  doubted  not,  as  Holcroft  would 
have  said,  '  to  win  in  a  canter.' 

Cameron  thought  the  proverb  right 
about  there  being  no  fool  like  an  old  one ; 


THE  GOLDEN  BANGLE.  195 

but  theo,  every  old  fool  had  not  Sir  Paget's 
bank-book,  and  the  preference  and  iuflu- 
ence  of  parents  to  back  up  his  folly.  But 
with  a  handsome  figure,  and  his  Y.C.,  how 
much  more  was  Cameron  like  the  object  of 
a  young  girl's  eye  than  Sir  Paget  could 
ever  be  ! 

'  It  was  in  the  Kurram  Pass,  in  Afghan- 
istan,  that  you  gained  the  Victoria  Cross, 
Mr.  Cameron?'  said  Eveline,  breaking  a 
pause  in  the  conversation,  and  shortening 
her  reins,  while  he  checked  the  pace  of 
his  horse,  and  replied,  with  a  pleased 
smile, 

'  Yes  ;  but  how  do  you  know  that.  Miss 
Graham  —  from  your  brother,  the 
Master?' 

'No.' 

'  I  have  never  spoken  of  it.' 

'  I  read  it  in  the  Army  List,'  replied 
Eveline,  candidly,  and  to  hear  her  say  so 
made  the  bronze  cross    of   more   value   to 

0  2 


196     THE  MASTER  OF  AEERFELDIE. 

him   than   the   Garter   would    have   been. 

She  had  read  it,  and  committed  the  epi- 
sode to  heart  too — how  '  the  Queen  had 
been  graciously  pleased  to  signify  her  in- 
tention of  conferring  the  decoration  of  the 
Victoria  Cross '  on  Lieutenant  Evan  Cam- 
eron, of  the  — th  Foot,  and  now  of  the 
Black  Watch,  for  a  daring  act  of  bravery 
on  a  date  given,  when  the  retreating  forces 
were  attacked  by  Afghans  in  great 
strength,  the  latter  having  pushed  forward 
upon  the  position  at  daybreak,  and  Lieu- 
tenant Cameron,  accompanied  by  only  five 
soldiers,  captured  a  nine-pounder  gun, 
shooting  down  or  bayonetting  all  the  gun- 
ners, and  thus  preventing  the  destructive 
use  of  the  piece,  which  he  brought  off  with 
the  loss  of  one  man,  but  in  the  conflict 
received  three  severe  tulwar  wounds. 

Cameron  was  an  enthusiast  in  his  pro- 
fession, and  with  outwardly  the  air  of  a 
well-bred  man  of  the  world,  and  thoroughly 


THE  GOLDEN  BANGLE.  197 

SO  that  of  a  j^oung  Line  officer,  he  had  in 
his  nature  a  deep  sentiment  of  nationality, 
of  clanship,  and  Highland  romance,  with 
an  intense  pride  in  his  regiment.  He  had 
entertained  Eveline  often  with  sketches, 
anecdotes,  and  traditions  of  the  Black 
Watch,  but  of  himself  and  his  Y.C.,  of 
course,  he  never  spoke. 

'  What  a  proud  moment  it  must  have 
been  for  you,  when  you  knew  that  you  had 
won  the  cross !'  said  the  girl,  with  a  flush 
on  her  soft  cheek. 

Stirred  in  his  soul  by  the  interest  she 
took  in  him,  the  great  secret  of  his  heart 
was  trembling  on  his  lips,  but  he  repressed 
it,  and  a  shadow  came  into  his  face  and  a 
wistfulness  into  his  eyes. 

'  Prouder  would  I  have  been,  Miss  Gra- 
ham,' said  he,  '  if — if — I ' 

'  What  ?' 

*  I  had  then  been  known  even  by  name 
to  you,'  he  replied,   in    a  low  voice,   and 


198  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

With   a  manner  there  was  no    mistaking. 

Nothing  more  was  said  then ;  yet  they 
both  felt,  while  eye  met  eye,  that  their 
first  words  of  love  had  been  spoken. 

More  might,  perhaps,  have  passed,  as 
the  subject  could  easily  have  been  enlarged 
on ;  but  just  then  they  were  abrupt^ 
joined  by  Allan,  who  came  up  at  a  trot  and 
reined  in  his  horse  sharply  by  their  side, 
with  a  dark  expression  on  his  face,  which 
Eveline  thought  augured  ill  for  his  success 
with  Olive,  whom  he  had  suddenly  left  in 
the  care  of  Mr.  Ilawke  Holcroft. 

After  quitting  the  ruins,  as  Allan  rode 
on  by  his  cousin's  side,  his  memory  had 
gone  back  to  the  days  when  she  was  a  girl 
of  some  twelve  years  or  so — a  bright-eyed 
hoyden,  who  could  fish,  even  take  a  shot 
from  his  gun,  climb  trees,  eat  apples  right 
off  the  branch,  play  marbles  with  him, 
grasp  a  trout  darting  in  the  burn  under 
the  long  yellow  broom  or  purple  brambles, 


THE  GOLDEN  BANGLE.  199 

and  was  liis  companion  in  many  a  ramble 
and  out-door  frolic ;  and  now  inspired  by 
that  memory,  the  scenery  and  beauty  of 
the  evenings  he  felt  himself  disposed  to 
treat  with  considerable  tenderness  the  love- 
ly girl  he  hoped  to  make  yet  his  own. 

On  the  other  hand,  Olive  cared  little  to 
please  him,  and  for  a  time  sbe  almost  re- 
pelled, and  yet  by  doing  so  she  greatly 
lured  and  attracted  him. 

The  friendship  of  Allan  and  Olive  was  a 
source  of  some  perplexity,  if  not  amuse- 
ment, to  Eveline  Graham,  but  of  irritation 
to  her  mother,  to  whom  they  never  seemed 
to  act  as  lovers  at  all,  unless  in  '  the  Scots 
fashion  '  of  pouting  and  quarrelling. 

To  the  eyes  of  all  interested  in  the  mat- 
ter, it  did  not  seem  that  she  cared  for  him 
in  the  least.  She  never  altered  a  ipldn  or 
hastened  her  pace  to  meet  him,  or  go  where 
he  might  chance  to  be — in  the  library,  on 
the    terrace    smoking,    or   in    any    of   the 


200  THE  MASTER  OE  ABERFELDIB. 

quaint  corridors  that  traversed  the  old 
house.  She  never  adopted  a  dress,  a 
ribbon,  or  ornament  to  please  his  eye, 
though  she  sometimes  did,  coquettishly, 
he  thought,  to  flatter  Hawke  Holcroft ; 
and  even  now,  as  they  were  slowly  tra- 
versing the  dark,  woody  dell  of  the  legend 
— the  Coire-nan-Urishin — she  was  humming, 
half  in  warning,  half  in  waggery,  Tenny- 
son's song  : 

'  She  can  both  false  and  friendly  be, 

Beware !  beware ! 

Trust  her  not,  she  is  fooling  thee  !' 

And  yet,  as  she  glanced  at  her  soldierly 
cousin  from  time  to  time  under  her  long, 
dark  lashes,  she  thought  that,  though  he 
looked  stately  in  the  kilt,  he  seldom  looked 
better  than  now  when  in  riding  costume, 
with  the  smartest  of  light  grey  cover  coats. 
The  girl's  mind  vibrated  curiously  be- 
tween her  over-sensitive  pride,  her  wishes, 
her  doubts,  and  half  convictions. 


THE  GOLDEN  BANGLE.  201 

If  pique  at  her  position  in  the  family 
with  Allan  had  made  her  accept,  with  a 
certain  degree  of  equanimity,  the  attentions 
of  Holcroft.  she  now  began  to  feel  a 
pleasure  that  she  had  not  more  fully  en- 
couraged them. 

At  such  moments  as  the  present  Allan 
felt  that  this  fair  girl,  who  had  ever  been 
his  friend — cherished  as  a  sister — this 
sweet  cousin  with  the  violet  eyes  and  rich 
brown  hair — was  dear  to  him  with  a  ten- 
derness to  which  he  could  scarcely  give  a 
name,  unless  it  were  purest  love ;  and  she 
might  have  read  it  in  his  eyes,  intense  and 
strong,  but  for  that  spirit  of  wilfulness 
which  led  her  to  temporise — was  it  to 
tyrannise  ? — or  play  with  it  and  him. 

But  may  a  girl  really  love  a  man  till  she 
is  certain  of  being  loved  in  return  ?  For 
Allan,  baffled  by  her  manner,  had  said 
nothing  very  pointed  as  yet,  as  if  he  based 
all  their  future  on  her  father's  will ;  and 


202     THE  MASTEE  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

times  there  were  when  in  pique  he  dropped 
liis  way  of  treating  her  half  playfully,  half 
deferentially,  and  became  absolutely  cold. 

In  fact,  the  thoughts  of  Olive,  apart 
from  her  jealous  pride,  were  somewhat 
difficult  to  analyse  ;  but,  as  yet,  she 
deemed  that  she  could  only  regard  him 
with  a  kind  of  sisterly  attention  ;  while  he, 
when  not  irritated  by  the  presence  of 
Holcroft,  would  say  to  Eveline, 

^  When  we  are  alone,  and  can  slip  back 
into  our  old  memories,  I  shall  soon  teach 
her  to  love  me.' 

'  But  meantime,'  replied  his  sister,  *  you 
are  the  most  tiresome  couple  in  the 
world.' 

*  I  wish  Mr.  Holcroft  or  some  one  else 
would  join  us,'  said  Olive,  looking  round 
in  her  saddle. 

'Why,  it  is  always  Mr.  Holcroft!'  ex- 
claimed Allan. 

^  You   are    so   provokingly    silent.     For 


THE  GOLDEN  BANGLE.  203 

more  tban  a  mile  you  have  not  once 
spoken  to  me.  It  is  stupid  to  be  so  triste ! 
Surely  there  is  some  one  else  whose  society 
you  prefer,  or  with  whom  you  would  be 
more  lively  ?' 

'  Olive !'  said  he,  on  hearing  this  blunt 
and  pointed  remark — both  curiously  so  for 
her.  '  You  are  surely  not  jealous  of  any- 
one?' he  added. 

*  Jealous  !'  echoed  the  girl,  with  a  strange 
but  affected  kind  of  lazy  scorn ;  '  why 
should  I  be  so,  and  of  ichom  T 

'  Well  may  you  ask,  of  whom  could  you 
be  so?'  replied  Allan,  pointedly — so  much 
so  that  she  coloured  ;  '  though  I,  of  course, 
matter  little  to  you.'  * 

'  Allan,  you  are  very  wrong  to  say  so/ 
said  the  girl,  softly. 

'  Then  I  am  not  quite  indifferent  to 
you  ?'  urged  Allan,  impulsively  now  ;  '  you 
do  care  for  me  a  little?' 

^  Certainly — a    good    deal,  if   it   is    any 


204  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

satisfaction  to  you  ;  but  there — don't  touch 
my  bridle  hand,  or  you  will  make  my  horse 
shy.     How  can  you  be  so  tiresome  !' 

Allan  sighed,  and  yet  he  regarded  her, 
in  her  loveliness  and  insouciance,  with  an 
expression  just  then  of  mingled  amuse- 
ment, annoyance,  and  regard  in  his  dark 
hazel  eyes. 

With  all  the  love  that  had  been  growing 
in  his  heart  for  Olive,  he  had  been  in  no 
hurry  to  urge  his  suit,  for,  though  impetu- 
ous by  nature,  he  could  be  reserved  and 
cautious  enough  at  times ;  but  now  his 
heart  flew  to  his  head,  and  he  said, 
bluntly, 

.  '  Dearest  Olive,  will  you  promise  to  love 
me — to  marry  me?' 

*  Why  require  any  promise  about  the 
matter  ?'  she  replied,  as  all  her  wilfulness 
returned ;  '  has  not  my  father  promised  for 
me — bequeathed  me  to  you  like  a  bale  of 
goods,  or  condemned  me  to  poverty  !'  she 


THE  GOLDEN  BANGLE.  205 

added,  with  a  bitter  laugli  on  her  lips  that 
curled  with  anger.  '  I  wonder  that  he  did 
not  order  that  I  was  to  be  locked  up  and 
fed  on  bread  and  water  till  I  gave  my 
consent  to  marry  you,  or  that  I  was  to  be 
dropped  into  that  oubliette  which  exists 
somewhere  in  Dundargue.' 

'  Cousin  Olive,'  said  he,  reproachfully, 
'  why  this  pride  and  doubt  of  my  purpose  ? 
You  are  as  cruel  as  you  are  beautiful.' 

'  This  is  worse  than  anything  you  have 
ever  said  to  me,'  she  cried,  with  angry 
laughter  still. 

'  Worse  ?' 

'Yes,  an  attempt  at  gross  straightfor- 
ward compliment,  as  if  I  was  a  girl  at  a 
railway  buffet.' 

'  Don't  you  like  to  be  complimented  ?' 

'  By  some  people — yes,'  was  the  petulant 
reply. 

'  All  the  girls  I  have  ever  known  have 
liked  pretty,  flattering  speeches.' 


206  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

^  But  I  am  different,  I  hope,  from  most 
of  the  girls  you  have  known.' 

'B}'-  Jove  you  are  !'  replied  the  Master, 
twisting  his  moustache  till  he  made  him- 
self wince  ;  '  but  will  I  never  be  more  to 
you  than  I  am  now  ?' 

'  Never  more  than  my  cousin — what 
w^ould  you  desire  to  be?  But  here  comes 
Mr.  Holcroft,  to  whom  I  certainly  made 
no  sign,'  she  added,  with  some  annoyance, 
as  she  thought  of  what  had  so  lately  passed 
between  them  ;  and  then,  so  variable  was 
her  emotion,  that  she  laughed  as  she 
thought — '  Two  proposals  in  one  day,  and 
both  made  in  the  saddle  too — how  droll !' 

Allan  misinterpreted  her  silent  laugh  as 
a  welcome  to  Holcroft,  and  shrank  from 
his  own  angry  fears — they  were  not  con- 
victions yet — lest  he  should  adopt  that 
meanest  passion  of  the  whole  category — 
jealousy  without  a  just  cause— jealousy 
of  oue  inferior  to  him  in  social  position. 


THE  GOLDEN  BANGLE.  207 

and    certainly    in     personal     attractions. 

When  reduced  to  act  cavalier  to  Miss 
Euby  Logan,  who  certainly  did  not  want 
him,  Hawke  Holcroft  had  looked  darklv 
after  the  cousins  as  they  rode  off  too^ether, 
and  thought  that  nothing  short  of  death 
Tvould  prevent  him  from  accomplishiug 
the  object  he  had  now  in  view  ere  he  left 
Dundargue. 

From  something  in  the  manner  of  the 
cousins,  he — a  close  observer — augured 
that  Allan  had  not  made  his  '  innings ' 
wdth  the  heiress,  yet  he  cantered  up  to 
Allan's  side,  and  said,  smilingly  to  Olive, 

*  May  I  smoke.  Miss  Eaymond  ?  The 
road  is  quite  lonely,  and  if  not  disagreeable 
to  you ' 

*  Certainly,'  said  she,  curtly. 

'And  I  shall  join  you,'  added  Allan. 
*Can  you  oblige  me  with  a  light,  Hol- 
croft?' 

Cigars    were     selected,    and     Holcroft 


208  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

handed  his  silver  matchbox  to  Allan,  who, 
with  a  leap  of  his  heart,  though  without 
changing  colour  or  a  muscle  of  his  dark  and 
sunburned  face,  saw  on  his  rival's  wrist 
his  own  gift  sent  from  Delhi,  the  gold 
bangle,  which  Olive  had,  perhaps,  for  the 
time  forgotten,  and  on  which  was  her  own 
name  in  raised  Roman  letters. 

He  had  seen  Holcroft  in  rather  close 
proximity  to  her  during  the  most  of  the 
day,  and  if  piqued  thereat,  more  than  ever 
was  he  piqued  and  startled  now,  and 
abruptly  wheeling  round  his  horse,  he 
muttered  some  excuse  and  joined  his  sister 
and  his  friend  Cameron,  while  the  words 
of    the    song    came    ominously    back    to 

memory — 

'  Trust  her  not,  she  is  fooling  thee.' 

The  bangle  !     He  blushed  to  think  of  it, 

and  shrank  as   yet  from  speaking  of  it, 

even   to   Eveline,    for   he    was  altogether 

unaware    of    under    what    circumstances 


THE  GOLDEN  BANGLE.  209 

Holcroft  came  to  possess  it,  or  the  effort 
Olive  had  raade  to  procure  its  return 
without  success,  but  imagination  and 
jealousy  now  did  much  to  fill  his  heart 
with  secret  fury. 

Would  the  future  hold  love  or  hatred 
for  these  two  cousins?  It  seemed  just 
then  dilBficult  to  say. 

Like  Eveline,  he  thought  the  gift  of  the 
photo  a  trifle  when  compared  with  this,  yet 
the  photo  was  eventually  to  prove  the 
most  serious  and  troublesome  gift  of  the 
two. 

Wounded  self-esteem,  disquiet,  and  in- 
tense mortification  reigned  supreme  in  the 
mind  of  the  somewhat  proud  young  Master 
of  Aberfeldie  ;  but  he  felt  himself  necessi- 
tated to  dissemble.  Hawke  Holcroft  was 
his  fathers  guest,  the  son  of  his  father's 
oldest  and  most  valued  friend  ;  and  while 
at  Dundargue  it  would  be  necessary  to 
treat    him    with   courtesy,    though    Allan 

VOL.  I.  P 


210     THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIB. 

never  doubted  that  he  was  a  Meg,'  and 
resolved  that  his  courtesy  would  be  blend- 
ed with  watchfulness,  if — bitter  thought — 
Olive  was  now  worth  watching  over ! 

Unprepared  for  such  a  crisis  or  cata- 
strophe as  the  discovery  of  the  bangle,  and 
ignorant  that  Allan  had  made  it,  when  a 
carpet-dance  took  place  that  evening  at 
Dun d argue,  though  Olive  was  arrayed  in 
one  of  her  most  becoming  toilettes  for 
him,  and  him  alone,  he  never  even  address- 
ed her  or  looked  near  her;  and,  black 
though  his  brow,  he  entirely  occupied  him- 
self with  Euby  Logan ;  and,  provoked  by 
this,  Olive  again  endured  the  attention  of 
Holcroft,  and  thought  to  play — or  affect  to 
play — with  them  both. 

In  this,  however,  the  little  scheme  was 
doomed  to  be  disappointed  by  the 
events  of  the  following  day. 

'  I  shall  quit  Dundargue  for  London,  or 
give  up  my  leave  and  go  back  to  the  regi- 


THE  GOLDEN  BANGLE.  211 

ment,  and  never  look  upon  her  fair,  false 
face  again  till  I  have  schooled  myself  into 
merely  regarding  her  with  a  brotherly — 
well,  say  cousinly — eye  !'  thought  Allan, 
with  great  bitterness  of  spirit. 

But  how  about  that  absurd  will  and  the 
settlement  of  the  money  ? 


p2 


212 


CHAPTER  XL 


Eveline's  suitor. 


*  Verily,'  says  a  writer,  '  we  miss  our  op- 
portunities, and  live  our  lives  as  i£  they 
were  all  to  come  twice  over ;  not  as  if  each 
passing  sunset  brought  us  nearer  that 
day  when  the  pulse  must  cease  to  beat, 
and  the  heart  with  all  its  emotions  must  be 
stilled  for  ever.' 

Olive  was  now  experiencing  the  truth  of 
this  to  a  certain  extent. 

She  had  been — in  spite  of  herself — 
touched  by  Allan's  earnestness,  and  on 
retiring  to  her  room  her  first  act  was  to 


Eveline's  suitoe.  213 

have  his  neglected  gift — the  little  silver 
idol — the  bequest  of  the  grateful  subadar 
— duly  installed  on  a  pretty  Swiss  bracket, 
and  next  morning  she  determined  to  dis- 
cover why  his  manner,  after  their  return 
from  Dunsinane,  had  been  so  marked  and 
disagreeable  to  her,  even  if  she  should 
take  the  initiative,  and  have  to  recur  to 
the  conversation  which  ended  so  abruptly 
on  the  preceding  evening. 

She  entered  the  breakfast-room  full  of 
the  subject,  and  dressed — so  far  as  lace 
and  blue  ribbons  went — in  a  most  attract- 
ive and  coquettish  morning  costume ; 
but  Allan  was  not  there — he  was  at  the 
stables,  no  doubt,  or  at  the  kennel.  How 
tiresome  men  were,  she  thought. 

'  Good  morning,  Olive  darling !  how 
charming  you  look — I  must  positively  give 
you  a  kiss !'  exclaimed  the  not  usually 
effusive  Lady  Aberfeldie,  touching  the 
girl's  cheek  with  her  lips. 


214  THE  MASTEE  OP  ABERFELDIEt 

The  last  to  appear  at  the  breakfast-table 
was  her  husband,  who  entered  with  a  note 
in  his  hand,  and  an  expression  of  surprise 
on  his  face. 

'  Here  is  a  strange  thing,  Eveline,'  said 
he  to  Lady  Aberfeldie.  '  Tappleton  has 
just  brought  me  this  note  from 
Allan ' 

'-  From  Allan !'  exclaimed  one  or  two 
voices. 

^  Stating  that  lie  would  leave  by  dawn 
this  morning  to  take  the  train  for  the 
south,  and  might  be  absent  some  time, 
and  this  without  further  explanation.' 

'  How  odd — how  unlike  him  !'  exclaimed 
Lady  Aberfeldie.  '  Do  you  know  of  any 
business  engagement  or  invitation  he 
had?' 

'  No — I  know  of  nothing.' 

*  Or  you,  Olive — or  you,  Mr.  Cam- 
eron ?' 

All  professed  ignorance,  and  the  matter 


Eveline's  suitor.  215 

ivas  canvassed  by  the  family  circle  in 
vain. 

*  It  will  be  explained,  of  course.  Allan 
never  acts  without  reason,'  said  his  father, 
addressing  himself  to  the  morning 
meal. 

'  Allan  gone — how  odd — how  unaccount- 
able !'  was  the  thought  of  Olive,  whose 
heart  rather  reproached  her ;  and  now,  for 
a  little  time,  she  missed  the  handsome 
cousin  whom  she  had  so  teased,  worried, 
and  mortified ;  and  she  began  to  dread 
that  he  had  resigned  his  leave  of  ab- 
sence, and  gone  abruptly  to  rejoin  his 
regiment. 

'  Olive,'  said  Lady  Aberfeldie,  '  do  go  on 
with  your  breakfast.' 

'  Oh,  auntie,  I  have  finished.' 

'  Finished  ! — child,  you  have  taken  no- 
thing :  Tappleton  will  get  you  a  little 
grouse-pie.' 

'  Oh,  no — thanks,' replied  Olive,  and,  ris- 


216  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

ing  from  the  table,  she  quitted  the  room. 
The  eyes  of  her  aunt  and  Holcroft  followed 
her,  as  each  had  thoughts  of  their  own. 

The  love  the  latter  professed  for  her  was 
destitute  of  jealousy,  but  was  not  without 
fear;  and  his  face  just  then  would  have 
been  a  picture  had  anyone  cared  to  study 
it. 

There  might  have  been  read  satisfaction 
that  by  Allan's  unexpected  departure  he 
had  the  field  all  to  himself  ;  annoyance,  for 
the  Dundargue  despatch-box  often  brought 
him,  and  on  this  morning  had  done  so, 
epistles  in  blue  envelopes,  which  he  cared 
not  to  receive ;  greed,  as  he  thought  of  the 
prize  that  might  yet  be  his ;  and  hot  im- 
patience to  find  it  in  his  grasp  ;  and  thus, 
while  affecting  to  listen  to  Lord  Aberfeldie, 
who  was  describing  to  him  and  Sir  Paget 
a  cover  they  were  to  shoot  over  that  day, 
his  mind  was  revolving  how  he  might 
succeed  in  entrapping  Olive  Kaymond  into 


Eveline's  suitor.  217 

some  kind  of  Scotcli  marriage  (whatever 
that  was)  in  fun,  or  jest,  and  then  declare 
it  was  a  true  and  solemn  ceremony.  He 
thought  he  had  heard  of  such  things  being 
tried  and  done,  but  was  not  quite  certain. 

However,  he  took  fresh  courage  now 
that  he  would  have  her  all  to  himself,  and 
thought,  with  Bulwer,  that  '  thrones  and 
bread  man  wins  by  the  aid  of  others. 
Fame  and  woman's  heart  he  can  only  gain 
through  himself.' 

Not  that  he  cared  much  for  fame  or 
woman's  heart  either ;  bat  he  could  might- 
ily appreciate  her  fortune. 

Whatever  was  the  secret  thought  of 
Olive  about  the  sudden  and  unexpected 
departure  of  Allan,  she  felt  some  renewal 
of  her  pique,  but  of  a  different  kind,  when 
told  by  Eveline  of  the  magnificent  suite  of 
Maltese  ornaments  he  had  brought  home. 

'  For  whom  ?'  she  asked. 

'  You,  of  course.' 


218     THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

*  Then  lie  lias  never  offered  them  for  my 
acceptance.' 

'  Think  of  your  manner  to  him,  Olive/ 

'  They  are  for  Ruby  Logan  more  likely. 
He  has  met  Ruby  before^  we  all  know.' 

^  I  should  not  be  surprised  if  they  be- 
come a  gift  to  Ruby  now/  replied  Eveline, 
who  was  quietly  provoked  by  Olive's 
treatment  of  her  brother ;  '  though,  when 
he  got  these  jewels  at  Malta,  I  question  if 
he  knew  of  that  yellow-haired  damsel's 
existence.' 

And  now,  greatly  to  the  vexation  of 
Eveline,  and  the  amusement  perhaps  of 
Olive,  the  latter's  bangle  remained  on  the 
wrist  of  the  enterprising  Mr.  Holcroft, 
thouo^h  none  of  them  knew  the  mischief 
that  the  discovery  of  it  had  wrought  in  the 
mind  of  Allan  Graham  ;  but  in  the  latter's 
absence  poor  little  Eveline  was  doomed  to 
have — unsupported  by  his  presence  and 
advice — some  heavy  trouble  of  her  own. 


EVELINES    SUITOR.  219 

Lord  aucl  Lady  Aberfeldie  were  in  con- 
sultation  in  the  latter 's  boudoir,  a  little, 
old-fashioned  room  of  octagonal  shape,  the 
panelled  walls  of  which  were  hung  with 
rich  silk — a  sanctum  long  sacred  to  the 
Chatelaines  of  Dundargue,  and  the  whole 
appurtenances  of  which  had  that  combined 
air  of  ease,  repose,  and  grandeur  peculiar 
to  the  furniture  of  an  ancient  and  long- 
descended  race. 

Kelpie — a  currish-looking  terrier,  but 
her  ladyship's  pet — had  got  his  morning 
repast  of  cream  and  macaroons  from  her 
own  white  hands,  and,  this  important  duty 
over,  she  and  her  husband  began  to  con- 
verse on  family  matters. 

Lady  Aberfeldie  amid  these,  indulged  in 
some  angry  surmises  as  to  how  long  they 
were  ''  to  have  the  society  of  Mr.  Hol- 
croft; 

'  I  cannot  say  that  I  care  much  person- 
ally for  Hawke  Holcroft/  replied  her  hus- 


220  THE  MASTER  OF  ABEREELDIE. 

band  ;  '  but  his  father,  as  you  know,  saved 
my  life  at  Alraa,  and  won  therefore  the  Y.C. 
I  have  told  you,  Eveline,  I  think,  that  when 
Colin  Campbell's  Highland  brigade  advanc- 
ed in  echelon  of  regiments  along  the 
Kourgane  Hill,  the  Black  Watch,  of  course, 
led  the  way,  and,  just  about  the  time  the 
Eussian  Kazan  column  broke,  no  particular 
sound  had  followed  our  firing  but  the  yells 
of  their  wounded  ringing  through  the 
smoke.  With  the  next  volley  we  heard  a 
rattling  sound,  as  our  bullets  fell  like  hail 
upon  the  tin- kettles  they  carried  outside 
their  knapsacks,  as  all  the  great  grey-coated 
blocks  of  infantry  were  right  about  face  now, 
in  full  retreat.  It  was  just  then,  as  our 
calvary  and  guns  swept  after  them  in  pur- 
suit, that  I  fell  wounded,  and  would  have 
been  bayoneted  on  the  spot  by  four  Russians, 
wholayamongsome  caper  bushes  shamming 
death,  had  not  old  Major  Holcroft  cut  them 
down  like  ninepins,  and  protected  me  till 


Eveline's  suitoe.  221 

some  of  our  fellows  returned.  I  cannot 
forget  all  that,  you  know.' 

Lady  Aberfeldie,  who  had  heard  all  this 
fifty  times  at  least  before,  sighed  with  im- 
patience, and  said, 

'  His  son  certainly  appears  to  have  some 
attraction  for  Olive ;  and  what  would  you 
think  if  Allan,  repelled  by  her,  was  actually 
to  fall  in  love  with  Ruby  Logan  and  her 

amber  locks  ?    What  a  comDlication  that 

1. 

might  be.' 

'  Don't  suggest  such  a  thing  for  a  mo- 
ment. I  hope  he  wilh prove  himself  every 
way  worthy  of  one  who  has  so  long  occupied, 
like  Eveline,  the  place  of  a  daughter  in  our 
hearts.' 

'  Talking  of  Eveline,  it  is  high  time  she 
was  informed  of  Sir  Paget's  views  and 
wishes;  and  while  on  the  subject  may  I 
ask,'  she  added,  with  some  asperity  of 
tone,  '  how  long  Mr.  Cameron  is  to  be 
here  ?' 


222  THE  xMASTER  OF  ABBRFELDIE. 

'  A  week  yet,  and  then  he  must  report 
himself  at  head-quarters.' 

'  A  whole  week  ?'  muttered  lady  Aber- 
f eldie,  who  was  far  from  inhospitable  when 
she  approved  of  the  objects  to  whom  she 
thought  hospitality  should  be  extended. 

'  I  do  like  Stratherroch.  He  is  like  his 
father,  old  Angus  of  the  Cameron  High- 
landers, yet  not  so  lively  ;  for  Angus  was  the 
king  of  good  fellows,  and  used  to  keep  the 
mess-table  in  a  roar.' 

'  Yet  I  would  his  son  were  with  the  regi- 
ment again,  or  anywhere  else  but  here.' 

'  I  think  he  admires  Eveline.' 

'  I  am  certain  of  it,  and  the  sooner  their 
intimacy  terminates  the  better.  Eveline 
and  Strath — good  heavens !'  exclaimed 
Lady  Aberf eldie,  with  her'  white  jewelled 
hands  uplifted,  '  never  again  must  their 
names  be  mingled,  even  in  our  family 
circle,  especially  under  pending  circum- 
stances.' 


EVELINE  S    SUITOR.  223 

*  They  do  seem  intimate,'  said  the  peer, 
moodily ;  '  but  have  not  at  least  progressed 
so  far  as  the  use  of  Christian  names.' 

*  That  would  be  intolerable;'  and,  ringing 
the  bell,  Lady  Aberfeldie  desired  a  servant 
to  summon  her  daughter,  who  appeared  in 
a  very  coquettish  and  becoming  lawn-tennis 
costume,  for  a  game  on  the  lawn,  where 
the  courts  were  already  set  and  some  friends 
awaited. 

She  entered  with  a  bright  smile,  which 
soon  died  away,  for  she  read  an  expression 
in  the  faces  of  her  parents,  especially 
that  of  her  mother,  which  seemed  to  her 
sensitive  heart  prophetic  of  evil. 

If  it  be  true,  as  Madame  be  Stael  asserts, 
that  '  love  occupies  the  whole  life  of  a 
woman,'  it  need  not  be  a  matter  of  surprise 
that  the  sex  can  discover  each  other's  love 
secrets  with  ease ;  thus,  though  Lady 
Aberfeldie  fully  suspected  what  filled  the 
heart  of  her  daughter — so  closely  had  she 


224  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

watched  her — she  was   somewhat  pitiless 
now. 

With  all  her  queenly  manner  and  soft 
grace,  her  unexceptional  toilettes  and  sauv- 
ity  of  manner,  Lady  Aberfeldie  had  a  will 
of  iron,  yea,  of  adamant  in  some  things, 
and  her  daughter's  marriage  with  Sir  Paget 
was  one  of  them. 

She  was  told  plainly  and  bluntly  that  he 
had  proposed  for  her  hand  ;  had  asked  per- 
mission to  address  her  on  the  subject ;  had 
offered  magnificent — yea,  princely  settle- 
ments ;  and  it  was  expected  the  marriage 
would  take  place,  when  the  family  returned 
to  London,  next  season. 

The  long  dreaded  cloud  had  burst  upon 
her  at  last ! 

She  grew  white  as  a  lily  on  hearing  this 
sentence,  clung  to  a  console  table  for  sup- 
port, and  then  burst  into  a  torrent  of  tears, 
while  her  father  drew  her  tenderly  towards 
him. 


Eveline's  suitor.  225 

'  Be  calm,  child,'  said  he,  '  we  shall  give 
you  plenty  of  time  to  think  about  it ;  mar- 
riage is  a  serious  thing  at  all  times.' 

Eveline  thought  it  was  doubly  serious 
with  such  a  bridegroom,  but  could  only  sob, 
while  her  mother  eyed  her  gloomily,  as 
she  thought  this  excessive  grief  and  repug- 
nance augured  worse  for  her  scheme  than 
indignation  or  defiance  would  have  done  ; 
but  poor  Eveline  was  all  softness  and 
gentleness. 

*  What  folly  is  this  ?'  she  asked. 

'  I  am  your  only  daughter,  mamma,' 
urged  Eveline. 

'  Hence  it  is  your  first  duty  to  your 
family,  to  yourself,  and  the  world  to  make 
an  early,  eligible,  and  wealthy  marriage. 
Every  season  brings  many  such  to  pass  in 
our  own  circle.' 

'Are  we  so  poor,  mamma?' 

'  We  are  not  rich,  and  know  not  what 
may  happen,' 

VOL.  I.  Q 


226  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

Did  Lady  Aberfeldie  speak  propheti- 
cally ?  If  so,  it  was  an  utterance  made 
unawares. 

^Eveline  darling,'  said  her  father,  'you 
were  content  enough  with  the  attentions  of 
Sir  Paget,  and  to  accept  even  his  presents 
in  London,  a  season  or  two  ago/ 

'  I  was  but  a  girl  then  fresh  from  school, 
and — and  joined  other  girls  in  laughing  at 
my  having  an  old  lover.  I — I  knew  no 
better,'  she  continued,  sobbing. 

'  And  had  not  met  Cameron  of  Strath- 
erroch  !'  said  her  mother  through  her  set 
teeth,  and  quite  forgetting  the  role  she  had 
so  recently  suggested. 

'  No,'  thought  Eveline,  *  and  had  not 
learned  to  love  him.'  She  shivered  as  if 
she  had  been  struck  when  her  mother  spoke, 
and  then  said,  with  all  the  firmness  she 
could  assume, 

*  You  must  mistake  us  in  some  way, 
mamma.  Mr.  Cameron  has  never  addressed 


Eveline's  ruitoe.  227 

a  word  to  me  that  he  might  not  have  ad- 
dressed to  yourself.' 

'I  am  glad  of  it — then  I  shall  tauut  you 
with  his  name  no  more/  said  her  mother, 
kissing   her  forehead.     '  People  generally, 
but  young  ladies  especially,  should  never 
indulge  in  strong  emotions.' 
*  Perhaps,  mamma ;  but  why  ?' 
'  They  age  the  face  so  much  by  lining  it.' 
Eveline  covered  with  her  handkerchief 
her  whole  sweet  face,  which  was  quivering 
with  emotion  now.      She  felt  that  the  ro- 
mance of  her  young  girl's  life  was  quite  pass- 
ing from  her,  and  that,  even  if  she  escaped 
a  marriage  with  Sir  Paget,  she  must  think 
of  Evan  Cameron  and  his  silent  love  no 
more ! 

'  Think  of  Sir  Paget's  princely  settle- 
ments,' said  Lord  Aberfeldie.  '  But  how 
difficult  it  is,'  he  added,  as  if  to  himself,  '  to 
imbue  a  woman — a  pretty  girl  more  than 
rj^ll — yvith  any  idea  of  the   seriousness  of 

q2 


228  THH  MASTER  OP  ABERFELDIE. 

pounds,  shillings,  and  pence  !  To  her  they 
are  as  the  sands  upon  the  seashore,  unless 
she  has  known  want/ 

'  Do  reflect  on  all  this,  Eveline,'  urged 
her  mother. 

*  I  cannot ;  and  why  should  I  do  so  ?' 

'  Because  most  of  the  great  evils  of  life 
might  be  avoided  if  we  would  only  take 
time  to  reflect.' 

'  In  a  matter  like  this,  mamma/  said 
Eveline,  taking  courage  from  her  despera- 
tion, and  hoping  by  temporising  to  gain, 
at  least,  time,  '  reflection  might  lead  to 
madness.  Can  wealth  or  princely  settle- 
ments make  up  for  that  disparity  of  years 
which  will  excite  ridicule  in  all  the  girls 
who  know  me,  and  cover  me  with  contempt 
as  a  mean,  sordid,  and  covetous  creature 
in  marrying  a  man  I  do  not  and  can  never 
love,  and  who  cannot  really  care  for  me, 
whatever  he  may  think  or  say  ?  So,  so,  I 
am  to  be  taken  to  market,  as  it  were,  and 


EVELINE'S  SUITOR.  229 

sold  to  the  best  advantage.  That  is  the 
plain  English  of  it !' 

*  Eveline,  how  can  you  adopt  a  tone  so 
little  like  you  ?'  said  her  mother,  reproach- 
fully. '  Sir  Paget  will  be  sure  to  address 
you  on  this  subject,  as  he  has  your  papa's 
permission,  and,  when  he  does  so,  be  sure 
that  you  comport  yourself  as  becomes  my 
daughter/  she  added,  rather  haughtily,  and 
rather  ignoring  her  husband  in  the  matter. 
*  But  go ;  I  hear  Olive  and  Miss  Logan 
calling  for  you.' 

Eveline  hurried  away,  bathed  her  eyes, 
and  then,  hat  in  hand,  descended  from  the 
terrace  to  the  sunny  lawn,  where  Olive, 
Euby,  and  other  girls  were  flitting  about, 
radiant  with  smiles  and  in  gaily-coloured 
costumes,  with  saucy  and  bewitching  hats, 
talking  and  laughing  merrily  ;  but  the  girl 
felt  as  one  in  a  dream,  a  nightmare.  A 
dark  cloud  seemed  to  envelop  her,  amid 
which  she  heard  the  voices  of  her  friends, 


230     THE  MASTER  OF  ABEHFELDIB. 

and  it  may  be  imagined  with  what  emo- 
tions in  her  breast  she  saw  in  the  tennis- 
court  opposite  her,  Cameron,  looking  so 
handsome  in  a  kind  of  athlete's  flannel 
dress,  and  the  rotund  figure  of  Sir  Paget 
in  a  tight  morning  coat,  out  of  the  neck  of 
which  his  round,  shining  head  was  jerked 
ever  and  anon  in  the  turtle  fashion  we 
have  described. 

Never  while  she  lived,  Eveline  thought, 
should  she  forget  the  horror  she  had  of 
that  game  of  lawn-tennis  ;  the  part  she  had 
to  act  in  it  under  a  glorious  sunshine,  and 
the  desire  she  had  for  the  seclusion  of  her 
own  room,  for  by  contrast  with  the  chaos 
in  her  own  heart  the  whole  bright  scene 
became  a  species  of  grim  phantasmagoria. 

Her  heart  seemed  full  of  tears ;  her 
naturally  buoyant  and  happy  spirit  was 
crushed.  She  dared  hardly  trust  herself 
to  address  even  Cameron,  who  saw,  with  a 
lovers  instinct,  that  something,  he  knew 


Eveline's  suitor.  231 

not   what    (unless   with   reference    to    Sir 
Paget),  had  gone  decidedly  wrong. 

We  have  already  adverted  to  the  strong 
passion  an  elderly  swain  like  Sir  Paget 
may  conceive  for  a  young  girl ;  and,  en- 
couraged by  her  parents'  permission,  he 
was  now  giving  full  swing  to  it,  as  he 
watched  her  slender,  lithe,  and  willowy 
figure  in  the  various  postures  incident  to 
the  game,  which  tested  /iZi^  powers  of  action 
severely,  and  during  a  pause  in  it  he  ap- 
proached her  with  a  smile  rippling  on  his 
rubicund  old  face,  and  displaying  a  set  of 
teeth  that  were  first-rate  as  to  cost  and 
quality. 

'  My  dear  Miss  Graham,'  he  said,  with  a 
most  insinuating  jerk  of  his  head,  '  why  do 
you  avoid  me  ?' 

*  I  am  not  aware  that  I  avoid  you  ;  I 
hope  I  don't  do  so,'  replied  Eveline,  colour- 
ing with  annoyance,  and  at  the  conviction 
that  she  certainly  had  done  so.     Then,  as 


232  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

a  kind  of  hunted  feeling  came  over  her, 
she  added ;  '  but  I  do  not  think,  Sir  Paget, 
that  I  am  bound  to  account  to  you  for  all 
I  do.' 

'  Of  course  not/  said  he,  with  a  bow,  and 
Eveline  coloured  more  deeply  at  the  un- 
graciousness of  her  own  speech;  ^ of  course 
not,  my  dear  young  lady — asyet^  he  added, 
under  his  breath. 

At  last  she  pleaded  illness,  fatigue,  and 
headache,  threw  down  her  hat,  and  fairly 
fled  to  her  own  room. 


233 


CHAPTER  XII. 

A  REVELATION  TO  HOLCROFT. 

The  sudden,  unexpected,  and  unexplained 
departure  of  Allan  Graham  from  Dundar- 
gue  (a  reason  for  wbicli  will  be  given  in 
due  time),  if  it  puzzled  his  family,  still 
more  puzzled  and  piqued  Olive,  especially 
after  what  passed  between  them  on  their 
homeward  ride.  But  then,  says  Lefanu, 
— 'Women  are  so  enigmatical;  some  in 
everything— all  in  matters  of  the  heart.' 

The   monetary  matters    of   Mr.   Hawke 
Holcroft   were   approaching   a   species   of 


234  THE  MASTER  OE  ABERFELDIE. 

crisis  now,  and  lie  was  daily  getting 
orange-coloured  missives  and  messages 
'  wired '  in  mysterious  terms  from  jockeys, 
bookmakers,  and  other  horsey  folks  that 
added  to  his  tribulation,  for  things  seemed 
to  be  going  wrong  with  him,  and  he  felt 
that  now  or  never  must  he  attempt  to 
secure  the  heiress,  who,  he  thought,  was 
only  waiting  to  be  carried  off. 

Even  loo  and  ecarte  in  the  evening 
with  such  pigeon-like  players  as  Sir  Paget 
were  beginning  to  fail  as  resources. 

'  Odd  fellow  in  his  way,'  remarked  the 
baronet  to  Cameron.  *A  trifle  too  lucky 
at  cards  for  my  taste.' 

'  Or  mine,'  said  Cameron,  grimly. 

'  Turns  up  the  king  too  often  after  the 
early  hours  of  the  morning.' 

Yet  when  niofht  came  as^ain  and  the 
small  hours  of  the  morning,  the  somewhat 
simple  M.P.  for  Slough-cum-Sloggit  was 
again  a  heavy  loser  to  Holcroft. 


A  REVELATION  TO  HOLOROET.  235 

*  He  lias  some  secret  about  him/  said 
tbe  former. 

*  Most  men  have  some  secret  which  they 
generally  keep  to  themselves/  replied 
Cameron. 

'Secrets  certainly,  which  they  seldom 
tell  to  their  wives  or  sweethearts,'  said  the- 
baronet,  laughing. 

We  have  said  that  Olive  had  a  secret 
thought  that  might  prove  somewhat  fatal 
to  Allan's  success  with  her,  a  mistaken 
idea  that  Holcroft  loved  her — loved  her 
for  herself — and  despite  the  tenor  of  her 
father  s  will ;  while  Allan  might  love  her 
because  he  knew  the  value  of  its  tenor  to 
himself. 

And,  now  that  the  latter  was  so  unac- 
countably absent,  Holcroft  was  full  of  con- 
fidence, and,  the  ice  having  once  been 
broken,  thought  it  would  be  easy  to  go 
back  to  where  he  had  left  off  on  the  ride 
home  from  Dunsinane. 


236     THE  MASTER  OE  ABEREELDIE. 

In  his  own  selfish  way  he  loved  her  ; 
but  then  she  was  beautiful.  Loved  her ! 
*  Oh,  poverty  of  language,  that  we  must  so 
often  use  the  word  love!'  exclaims  a  writer. 

It  was  some  days  before  his  inevitable 
departure  from  Dundargue  (and  not  an 
hour  too  soon  for  that),  when  he  and 
Olive  were  somewhat  earlier,  and  before 
anyone  else,  in  the  breakfast-room,  and 
the  notes  of  Eonald  Gair's  pipes,  playing 
his  morning  reveille,  '  The  Black  Watch,' 
a  slow  and  wailing  air,  were  dying  away 
on  the  terrace  outside. 

Holcroft's  face  looked  worn  and  hag- 
gard— more  freckled,  and  the  eyes  more 
than  usually  shifty  in  their  expression. 
He  had  received  some  letters  and  tele- 
grams the  evening  before  that  upset  him 
so  much  that  he  failed  even  to  win  at  loo 
or  ecarte,  and  the  live-long  night  he  had 
been  heard  by  Cameron  pacing  to  and  fro, 
as  if  unable  to  rest. 


A  EEVELATION  TO  HOLCROFT.      237 

Olive  was  struck  by  his  pallid  appear- 
ance. 

They  exchanged  'Good-mornings,'  and 
then  a  few  minutes'  silence  ensued. 

'  We  may  have  rain  soon,'  was  the  not 
very  original  remark  of  Holcroft. 

'  The  sky  looks  very  like  it.  Rain  al- 
ways comes  when  the  mist  is  Avhere  we 
see  it  now,  on  yonder  low  spur  of  the 
Sidlaw  Hills,'  replied  Olive. 

She  was  kneeling  on  a  bearskin,  beside 
the  great  staghounds,  Shiuloch  and  Bran, 
with  her  little  white  hands  .  outspread 
before  the  fire  for  warmth ;  and  a  charm- 
ing picture  she  made,  in  her  morning  cos- 
tume, fresh  and  lovely  as  a  fairy,  with  the 
dogs  in  the  foreground,  and  the  great 
carved  stone  arch  of  the  baronial  chimney- 
piece  for  a  frame. 

Hawke  Holcroft  turned  from  the  window 
and  came  to  her  side,  though  curiously 
enough     the    hazel    eyes    of    the    hounds 


238     THE  MASTER  OF  ABEEFELDIE. 

glistened,  and  they  showed  their  teeth  at 
him,  suggestive  of  kicks  secretly  adminis- 
tered. 

'We  are  down  earlier  than  usual  this 
morning/  said  she. 

'  All  the  better/ 

'  Why  ?' 

'  I  want  so  particularly  to  talk  to  you/ 
said  he,  with  all  the  softness  he  could 
assume. 

'  And  I  with  you,'  said  Olive,  •  with  a 
frankness  that  was  a  curious  mistake.  *  You 
leave  us  soon,  I  believe?' 

'Yes/ 

'For  London?' 

'  For  London,'  he  replied,  mechanically, 
as  it  were. 

'  I  thought  you  came  to  stay  out  the 
grouse-shooting  ?' 

'  Till  the  tenth  of  December  !  I  have 
not  been  asked/  he  replied,  gnawing  his 
yellow  moustache  ;  and  then,  after  a  pause, 


A  EEVELATION  TO  HOLCROFT.      239 

added,    '  would  you  wish  that  I   stayed  ?' 

'  Certainly,  if  you  are  enjoying  yourself,' 
was  the  girl's  frank  but — after  what  he 
had  urged  some  time  ago — rather  rash 
response. 

His  eyes  sparkled — he  drew  nearer. 

'  Miss  Raymond — Olive  !'  he  exclaimed, 
but  paused,  as,  at  that  moment,  Lady  Aber- 
feldie  swept  into  the  room  ;  '  on  the  terrace 
— the  terrace  after  breakfast,'  he  whispered, 
hurriedly,  and  then  turned  to  receive  his 
hostess's  morning  greeting,  which  was  so 
friofid  that  he  feared  she  had  overheard 
him  call  her  niece  by  her  Christian  name. 

Holcroft  was  rather  abstracted  at  break- 
fast; thus  Euby  Logan,  who  had  been 
watching  him,  said, 

'  I  would  not,  if  I  were  you,  put  more 
sugar  on  the  devilled  turkey ;  it  won't  im- 
prove it.' 

^  Forgot  it  was  not  salt ;  thanks,  Miss 
Logan,'  stammered  Holcroft. 


240  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELBIE. 

Now,  whether  the  charming  Olive  was 
inspired  by  coquetry,  curiosity,  caprice,  or 
a  strange  desire  to  play  with  fire,  we  know 
not ;  but  when  breakfast  was  over  she  laid 
down  a  novel  she  had  been  reading,  or 
affecting  to  read,  at  intervals  during  the 
meal,  and,  assuming  her  garden  hat,  with 
all  the  laces  and  ribbons  of  her  bright 
morning  dress  fluttering  about  her,  while 
everyone  else  at  table  was  deep  in  his  or 
her  letters  and  papers,  went  forth  upon — 
the  terrace  ! 

Now  Mr.  Hawke  Holcroft  never  read 
novels  or  anything  else  unless  for  a  pur- 
pose. He  glanced  at  the  page  which  Olive 
had  left  open  (the  work  was  'Miss  For- 
rester ')  and  the  passage  struck  him  as 
most  a])ropos  to  himself  : 

^  I  never  pretended  to  goodness.  I  have 
certain  views  for  myself.  I  never  pre- 
tended to  fooling.  I  am  clever.  What 
stands  between  me  and  my  ambition  I  will 


A  REVELATION  TO  HOLCROFT.      241 

remove  ;  of  whatever  can  administer  to  it 
I  will  avail  myself.  Beyond  this,  it  seems 
to  me,  I  am  as  good  as  other  people.' 

'  Hawke,  my  boy,  yourself  to  a  hair  !' 
thought  he,  as  he  quietly  sought  the  terrace, 
not  by  the  French  window,  as  Olive  had 
done,  but  by  going  through  a  corridor  and. 
the  entrance  hall. 

As  coolly  as  if  she  had  no  prevision  of 
what  he  was  sure  to  urge,  Olive,  who  wore 
a  waggish  yet  shy  expression  under  her 
garden  hat,  and  who  kept  her  hands  deep 
in  the  pockets  of  her  morning  dress,  said, 

'  What  have  you  to  say  to  me  here  that 
you  could  not  have  said  in  the  vicinity  of 
the  tea-urn  ?' 

'  All  that  I  have  to  say  may  be  said  in 
three  words.' 

'  Three  !  say  it  then.' 

'  I  love  you ;  a  confession  that  has  hover- 
ed on  my  timid  lips  many  a  time.' 

'  I  cannot  listen  to  this,  and  I  wish  to 

VOL.  I.  R 


242  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

have  back  my  baugle.  If  Allan  were  to  see 
it — good  heavens  !' 

'  I  have  said  that  it  shall  be  buried  with 
me.     Do  give  me  some  hope.' 

'Of  what;  permission  to  retain  tbe 
bangle  ?' 

'  No ;  that  you  may  one  day  love  me.' 

*  I  cannot.' 

^  Say  rather  that  you  will  not.' 

Barring,  in  an  angle  of  the  terrace,  her 
attempts  to  leave  him,  he  continued,  in  an 
earnestness  that  was  born  of  monetary  pres- 
sure and  desperate  hope,  to  plead  his  passion. 

'  I  am  greatly  honoured,'  replied  the  girl, 
growing  cold  as  he  waxed  warm,  and 
glancing  nervously  at  the  windows  of  the 
mansion  ;  '  but  I  am  very  sorry ' 

'  That  you  don't  love  me.' 

'  Yes.' 

*  But  you  may  in  time.  Oh,  how  I  could 
teach  you  to  do  so  !  Let  me  wait  and 
strive,  Olive.     You  deem  me  wild,  perhaps 


A  REVELATION  TO  HOLCROFT.  243 

— horsey,  and  all  that  sort  of  tliiu^^  ;  but 
do  you  think  a  man  never  changes,  never 
grows  better,  under  a  woman's  softening 
influence?  Are  you  entirely  to  let  this 
family  compact,  whatever  it  may  be,  Olive 
— pardon  m.e,  Miss  Raymond,'  he  added,  as 
he  saw  how  her  face  clouded  by  the  refer- 
ence to  her  position — '  are  you  intending 
to  let  it  stand  between  you  and  all  other 
chances  of  marriage  ?' 

'  You  have  no  right  to  question  me  thus, 
or  to  assume  this  interest  in  my  affairs, 
Mr.  Holcroft.' 

*  Pardon  me,  but  I  have  a  love  for  you 
that  will  last  while  life  does.' 

He  did  not  add  that  it  was  the  love  of — 
her  money. 

*  If  there  is  only  the  Master,  your  cousin, 
between  us,  that  is  no  barrier,  as  I  know 
you  don't  love  him.' 

*  Then  you  know  more  of  me  than  I  do 
of  myself,'  said  Olive,  provoked  by  his  blunt 

r2 


244     THE  MASTER  OF  ABEEFELDIB. 

brusquerie  of  manner,  and  failing  to  be 
flattered  by  his  pertinacity  just  then. 

^  Perhaps  yon  deem  me  an  heiress  ?' 
said  Olive,  as  a  new  light  suddenly  broke 
upon  her. 

*My  dear  Miss  Raymond/  stammered 
Holcroft,  colouring  with  surprise  at  the 
abruptness  of  her  question.  ^  I  never 
thought  upon  the  subject ;  I  only  knew 
that — that — I  am  not  just  now  a  man  of 

fortune ;  my  place  in  Essex '  he  paused, 

thinking  the  less  he  said  about  it  the  better. 
*  But  who  thinks  of  pelf  when  the  heart  is 
full  of  passion  1'  he  added,  magnanimously. 
'  But  tell  me  now,'  said  he,  in  his  most  suave 
tone,  ^do  you  care  for  anyone  else  more 
than  for  me  ?' 

'  I  don't  care  for  you  at  all — ^at  least 
in  the  way  you  mean,'  she  replied,  de- 
fiantly. 

He  ground  his  teeth,  even  while  he 
smiled,  and  thought, 


A  EEVELATION  TO  HOLCROFT.      245 

'  I  must  have  patience  before  I  tempt 
mj  fate  again  !' 

Hawke  Holcroft  had  made  it  so  much  a 
habit  during  his  sojourn  at  Dundargue  to  be 
in  close  attendance  upon  Olive — especial- 
ly when  the}'-  were  alone  together — that  his 
lovemaking  took  her  less  by  surprise.  In 
a  spirit  of  pique  she  had  permitted  him  to 
dangle,  and  to  play — if  we  may  use  the 
term — at  admiration  for  herself;  but,  udw 
that  he  had  become  serious  a  second  time, 
she  became  alarmed. 

The  remark  which  had  escaped  her  had 
excited  some  surprise  in  the  mind  of  Hol- 
croft, as  it  interested  him  deeply  ;  thus  he 
said,  in  a  low  soft  voice, 

^You  referred  to  your  not  being  an 
heiress.  Miss  Raymond,  as  if  that  could 
possibly  make  any  difference  with  one  who 
loves  you  as — as ' 

'  There,  there,  that  will  do  !'  interrupted 
the  impetuous  Olive  ;  '  I  am  not  an  heiress. 


246  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

in  one  sense,  but  very  much  of  a  beggar,  if 
you  knew  all,'  she  added,  in  a  voice  that 
faltered. 

He  regarded  her  with  some  bewilder- 
ment, as  well  he  might,  and  said, 

'  My  dear  Miss  Eaymond,  what  am  I  to 
understand  by  this  paradox  ?' 

'Understand  that  I  must  marry  my 
cousin  Allan,  or  forfeit  papa's  fortune — it 
goes  to  him  if  I  refuse,  or  to  charities.' 

Her  distinctness  and  vehemence  carried 
conviction  with  her  words.  Holcroft  was 
confounded ;  but,  being  a  practised  dissem- 
bler, he  only  smiled,  and  said, 

*  A  most  remarkable  arrangement,  and  a 
tyrannical  one  for  you.  But  suppose  the 
Master  had  died  in  his  boyhood — or  were 
to  die  now  ?' 

'  The  will  would  be  worthless  in  effect, 
of  course,  I  suppose,'  replied  Olive,  whose 
cheeks  now  burned  scarlet,  for — always  a 
creature  of  hot  impulse — she  now  thought^ 


A  EEVELATION  TO  HOLCROFT.      247 

hvhy  sbould  I  havepermittedmyself  to  speak 
to  him,  one,  almost  a  stranger,  or  to  any 
man,  of  papa's  will  ?  What  must  he  think 
of  me !    Oh,  what  will  Aunt  Aberfeldie  say?' 

For  half  a  minute  Holcroft  was  silent. 
He  was  thinking,  '  this  must  be  all  bosh  ! — 
a  cock  and  a  bull,  or  a  madman's  will ;  she 
doesn't  know  what  she  is  talking  about 
— no  woman  or  girl  ever  knows  business. 
Well — I've  a  pull  on  her  anyway  ;  a  vis- 
count's niece  isn't  in  a  fellow's  power  every 
day,  as  she  will  find  herself  in  mine.' 

What  he  referred  to  we  shall  show  ere 
long. 

While  Olive  was  still  crimson  with  re- 
flections on  her  own  imprudence,  Holcroft 
took  possession  of  her  passive  hands,  and 
said,  in  a  partly  assumed  voice  of  agitation, 

'  You  told  me.  Miss  Eaymond — let  me 
say  Olive — a  minute  or  two  ago  that  you 
did  not  care  for  me.  I  shall  not  take  that 
as  your   final   answer ;    and    ere    I    leave 


248  THE  MASTER  OF  ABEEEELDIE. 

Dundargue,  when  I  again  venture  to  speak 
to  you  on  the  subject  nearest  my  heart, 
your  reply ' 

'  Will  too  probably  be  the  same/  replied 
Olive,  wrenching  away  her  hands,  as  steps 
were  heard  near,  and  she  hastily  re-entered 
the  house. 

The  footsteps  heard  were  those  of  Allan, 
who  came  leisurely  up  the  flight,  a  broad 
and  stately  one,  which  led  to  the  terrace. 
He  had,  while  proceeding  down  the  avenue, 
observed  the  pair  together,  and,  as  it  seem- 
ed to  him,  in  rather  too  close  proximity. 
He  also  remarked  Olive's  abrupt  departure, 
at  Ms  approach  as  he  supposed,  and  his 
soul  become  ireful  within  him  ;  but  he  felt 
himself,  as  he  gave  a  hand  to  Holcroft, 
compelled  to  dissemble. 

So  did  the  latter  who  met  him  smilingly. 

'  Welcome  home  to  Dundargue,'  he  ex- 
claimed ;  *  you  have  come  back  as  unex- 
pectedly as  you  went ;  but  whither  ?' 


A  REVELATION  TO  HOLCROFT.      249 

'  Only  as  far  as  Edmburgh.' 

'  Ah.'  The  reply  seemed  rather  to  re- 
lieve Holcrof  fc.  Nothing  was  known  about 
him  there,  he  thought. 

*  A  lady  was  on  the  terrace  with  you 
just  now  ?' 

'Yes — Miss  Raymond/ 

*  So  I  thought — sorry  she  did  not  stay.' 

*  Why — particularly?' 

^I  have  some  news  that  may  interest 
her.' 

'  About  whom  ?' 

*  Herself.' 

'  Hope  they  are  pleasant  ?' 

'  That  will  depend  upon  how  she  may 
view  them,'  said  Allan,  with  a  nod,  as  he 
entered  the  house. 

'  Now,  what  the  deuce  has  he  been  up  to 
— this  fellow,  with  his  hair  cut  to  the 
military  pattern— Newgate  crop,  I  should 
call  it— he  looks  queer  this  morning,'  mut- 
tered Holcroft,  as  he  selected  a  cigar  from 


250  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

bis  case,  bit  the  end  off  with  his  sharp 
white  teeth,  and  proceeded  to  smoke  it  with 
brief,  augrj,  and  unen  joy  able  puffs  that 
indicated  a  mind  full  of  bitterness  and  ill 
at  ease.  Olive's  communication  had  been 
a  sudden  revelation  to  him. 


251 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

ALLAN  PROVES  MYSTERIOUS. 

If  Allan's  sudden  departure  and  unexplain- 
ed absence  excited  some  curiosity  in  the 
minds  of  his  family,  his  return  excited  it 
afresh  when  he  declined  to  make  any 
explanation  until  he  had  held  an  interview 
with  his  cousin,  Olive  Eaymond,  who,  for 
a  time,  secluded  herself  in  her  own  room 
on  the  usual  feminine  plea  of  having  a 
headache. 

Eveline,  who  had  so  longed  for  his  re- 
turn, now  with  tears  told  him  of  her 
fathers   frequently  expressed   wish — nay. 


252     THE  MASTER  OF  ABEEFELDIE. 

command,  and  Sir  Paget's  forthcoming 
proposal;  but,  full  of  his  own  miseries,  he 
could  only  caress  her  and  say, 

*  God  bless  you,  little  one.  I  wish  you 
well  over  all  this/ 

Sir  Paget  had  left  Dundargue  pending 
the  final  arrangements,  as  he  thought ;  thus 
the  cloud  and  the  dread  were  hanging  over 
her  still. 

*  Has  Olive  received  back  her  gold  bangle 
— my  gift — from  Mr.  Holcroft  ?'  asked 
Allan,  with  knitted  brows. 

'  I — I  think  not.  How  did  you  learn  he 
had  it  ?' 

'  Plainly  enough — I  saw  it  on  his 
wrist !' 

'  Where  he  put  it,  in  play — not  she.' 
'  I  should  hope  not,  by  Jove  !' 
'  I  know  she  has  asked  him  for  it  re- 
peatedly.' 

*  Can't  make  the  bescarar  out.' 

*  I  can — he  thinks  Olive  an  heiress. 


ALLAN  PROVES  MYSTERIOUS.      253 

Allan's  dark  brow  became  more  deeply 
knitted. 

'She  thinks  that  if  she  married  you, 
Allan  dear,'  said  his  sister,  after  a  pause, 
*  she  would  be  sacrificing  her  own  pride  and 
liberty,  and  that  you  might  marry  her 
though  not  caring  for  her ' 

'  But  for  that  wretched  money  ?'  said 
Allan,  with  a  kind  of  snort.  '  Poor  Olive 
— she  views  the  situation  in  this  light !  I 
certainly  shall  not  ask  her  to  make  any 
sacrifices  for  me,  and,  so  far  as  I  am  con- 
cerned, she  shall  be  free  as  a  bird  in  the  air.' 

His  sister  regarded  him  now  with  some 
perplexity,  not  understanding  what  he 
meant,  but  said, 

'You  have  just  come  in  time  for  a  little 
carpet-dance  we  have  arranged  as  a  fare- 
well treat  to  Ruby  Logan,  Mr,  Holcroft, 
and — and  Evan  Cameron,  who  are  about 
to  leave  Dundargue.' 

Allan  noted  the  inflection  of  her  voice 


254     THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

as  she  uttered  the  name  of  his  young  brother 
officer,  and  then  hurried  away,  as  their 
mother  entered  the  room,  and  with  rather 
a  cloudy  expression  in  her  face,  though  he 
hastened  to  kiss  her. 

*  You  have  been  to  Edinburgh,  I  have 
heard,'  she  said. 

'  Yes.' 

'  About  what,  Allan  ?' 

*  That  you  will  learn  in  time,  mother.  I 
must  speak  with  Olive  first.' 

Lady  Aberfeldie  was  full  of  irrepressible 
curiosit}^,  but  Allan  declined  to  gratify  it 
just  then. 

'  Have  your  recent  movements  any  re- 
ference to  Olive?' 

'  You  will  learn  in  time,  mother.' 

Lady  Aberfeldie's  face  shaded  with  an- 
noyance, for,  only  the  day  before,  she  and 
the  petulant  young  lady  in  question  had 
indulged  in  a  tift  between  them. 

Perceivinof  a  wistful  look  and  fitful  man- 


ALLAN  PROVES  MYSTERIOUS.      255 

ner  about  Olive,  and  that  slie  was  more 
than  usually  restless  and  irritable,  Lady 
Aberfeldie  had  unwisely  spoken  to  her  on 
the  subject  of  Allan's  regard  for  her. 

Olive  had  sat  for  a  moment  or  two,  with 
her  delicate  hands  tightly  interlaced  in  her 
lap,  and  then,  turning  defiantly  to  her 
aunt,  she  said, 

*  I  will  never  marry  Allan  !' 

*You  must  marry  Allan,  my  dear  girl,' 
replied  Lady  Aberfeldie,  calmly  and  firmly. 

*  Why  ?' 

'  You  know  your  father's  wish/ 
'  Oh,  the  will,  of  course  !     So  I  am  to  be 
treated  like  a  child?     Well,  if  so,  I  may 
prove  a  wilful  and  dangerous  one !' 

Her  aunt's  report  of  this  conversation 
made  Lord  Aberfeldie  more  than  ever 
anxious  for  the  return  of  his  son. 

*  You  are  very  mysterious,  Allan.  You 
and  Olive  seem  a  pair  of  enigmas,'  said 
Lady  Aberfeldie.     'But  your  father  waits 


256     THE  MASTER  OE  ABERFELDIE. 

you  in  the  library,  and  perhaps  you  will 
condescend  to  confide  in  him,  if  not  in  me, 
I  must  own  it  will  be  a  fatal  thing  for  your 
future  happiness  if  Olive  thinks  you  seek 
her  for  gain ;  but  for  what  does  Mr.  Hol- 
croft  so  evidently  seek  her  ?' 
Allan  smiled  disdainfully. 

*  T  have  tried  to  think,  mother  dear,  that 
she  is  not  affected  by  this  person  Holcroft, 
but  begin  to  own  to  myself  that  ''  the  faith 
that  worketh  miracles"  is  not  in  me.' 

When  questioned  by  his  father,  Allan 
made  the  same  reticent  reply,  that  he  must 
see  Olive  before  making  any  explanations. 

'  The  time  has  come  now,  Allan,'  said 
Lord  Aberfeldie,  '  when  you  are  bound  in 
honour  to  make  your  cousin  an  offer,  for 
in  this  peculiar  entanglement — for  such, 
I  grant  you,  it  is — you  and  she  do  not  stand 
in  the  position  of  most  engaged  persons.' 

*  But  suppose  I  have  no  wish  to 
marry ' 


ALLAN  PROVES  MYSTERIOUS.  257 

*  Absurd — outrageous  !' 

'  Or  may  not  marry  at  all  ?' 
*By  the  refusal  of  Olive?' 
'  Yes.' 

*  Then  her  fortune,  or  most  of  it,  becomes 
yours,  in  terms  of  the  will ' 

'  Which  has  been  a  curse  to  us  both.  In 
her  mind,  and  in  the  eyes  of  all  who  may 
come  to  hear  of  it,  we  must  lie  under  the 
degrading  imputation  of  a  mercenary 
motive.' 

'Not  if  you  act  with  tact  and  delicacy, 
and  surely  your  boy-and-girl  attachment 
must  remain  unchanged,'  said  Lord  Aber- 
feldie,  in  a  voice  that  was  soft,  rather  than 
indignant,  as  his  memory  went  back  to  the 
day  when  Olive  first  came  a  little  orphan 
child  to  Dundargue— a  tiny  and  graceful 
creature,  with  tender,  wondering,  and  be- 
seeching eyes — a  child  that  climbed  upon 
his  knee,  clung  to  him  with  sympathetic 
love,   and  played  with  his  watch-chain  or 

VOL.  I.  S 


258  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

the  tassels  of  his  sash,  if  he  was  in  uniform. 
^And  so/  he  added,  after  a  pause,  '  jou  must 
propose  to  the  dear  girl  as  a  mere  matter  of 
form.' 

'  I  have  already  done  so,'  said  Allan,  re- 
calliDg,  what  he  was  not  likely  to  forget, 
all  that  had  occurred  during  the  homeward 
ride  from  Dunsinane. 

'Well,  sir?'  asked  his  father. 

*  I  was  laughed  at — mocked,  I  may  say.' 
'Impossible!  The  girl  must  have  been 

jesting  with  you.' 

'  I  do  not  think  so,'  said  Allan,  both  sad- 
ly and  bitterly  as  he  thought  of  the  bangle 
and  many  other  circumstances,  the  inevit- 
able '  trifles  light  as  air.' 

*  Wei],  you  are  bound  to  renew  your 
proposal.' 

'  I  do  not  think  so,  nor  shall  I  agaiu, 
unless  some  change  comes  over  her.' 

'  If  I  exert  my  authority  as  guardian 
and  trustee ' 


ALLAN  PROVES  MYSTERIOUS.      259 

'  She  may  run  away.  Olive  is  a  proud 
and  restlessgirl  with  a  defiant  spirit,  though 
she  has  a  very  affectionate  heart.' 

'  But  you  cannot  expect  that  she  is  to 
propose  to  yoiL 

'  I  do  love  her,  father — love  her  dearly  ; 
but  fear  that  she  views  me  too  much  as  a 
brother  to  love  me  otherwise.' 

'  This  is  rank  nonsense.  Think  of  your 
separations,  and  of  your  last — one  well 
nigh  seven  years — with  the  Black  Watch.' 

'  But  might  it  not  be  the  case  that  she 
may  have  2i,  penchant  for  some  one  else  ? 

'  For  whom  ?'  asked  Lord  Aberfeldie, 
angrily. 

'  Well,  say  for  your  friend  Mr.  Holcroft.' 

*  Penniless  Hawke  Holcroft !  absurd — 
the  man  has  seen  but  little  of  her.' 

'  Quite  enough  in  London  and  here  to 
learn  to  admire,  if  not  to  love  her.  I  would, 
however,  rather  see  her  laid  in  her  grave 
than  married  to  Holcroft,'  said  Allan,  in  a 

s2 


260     THE  MASTER  OF  ABEEFELDIE. 

stern  but  broken  voice,  adding  under 
his  breath,  as  he  left  his  father's  presence 
and  cut  short  an  unpleasant  interview,. 
*  but,  so  far  as  I  am  concerned,  she  shall  be 
free  to  choose  for  herself — free  as  the  wind.' 

'  What  the  deuce  can  all  this  mean  T 
exclaimed  Lord  Aberfeldie,  in  great  per- 
plexity ;  ^  was  ever  an  unfortunate  man 
more  troubled  with  two  intractable  girls, 
than  I  am  with  Eveline  and  Olive  !' 

It  has  been  said  that,  '  if  exceedingly  few 
men  and  women  understand  each  other 
when  they  are  in  their  sober  senses,  how 
must  it  fare  when  they  are  under  the 
blinding  influence  of  love  ?' 

But  Allan's  course  of  action  was  decided 
now. 


261 


CHAPTER  XIY. 

OLIVE  CHANGES  HER  MIND. 

'  You  are  pleased  to  see  me  again,  Olive  ?* 

'  Of  course,  Allan — why  do  you  ask  me  ?' 
she  exclaimed,  putting  both  her  hands  into 
his  in  vt^elcome. 

He  retained  them  with  a  tender  pressure 
for  half  a  minute,  looking  the  while  wist- 
fully into  her  violet  eyes,  and  then  he  let 
theni  drop  from  his  clasp. 

'  You  wish  particularly  to  speak  with  me, 
I  understand  ?'  said  Olive,  nervously  think- 
ing it  must  refer  to  the  tete-a-tete  he  had 
overseen  on  the  terrace. 


262  THE  MASTER  OF  AEERFELDIE. 

^Yes — particularly,  dear  Olive.' 

When  he  saw  her  tender  beauty,  her 
grace,  and  her  witchery,  and  felt  all  the 
subtle  charm  of  her  presence,  his  heart 
was  wrung  by  the  thought  that,  by  the 
very  act  he  had  the  power  to  do,  and  the 
suggestions  he  was  about  to  make  to  her, 
he  might  place  her  at  the  entire  disposal  of 
Hawke  Holcrof t,  of  whose  real  character  he 
now  knew  more  than  formerly. 

How  variable  had  been  the  emotions  she 
had,  ever  since  his  return  from  India,  ex- 
hibited towards  him  !  By  turns  she  had 
been  changeable  and  indifferent  apparent- 
ly ;  playful,  petulant,  and  imperious  ;  yet 
always  bewitching  and  sweet. 

Seeing  the  cloudy  and  sad  expression 
of  his  eye,  Olive  said, 

'  You  have  not  come  to  scold  me  for 
anything,  Allan.  We  are  at  least 
friends.' 

'  Would  we  were  more,'  said  Allan,  re- 


OLIVE  CHANGES  HER  MIND.  26B 

membering  what  his  father  had  urged  but  a 
few  minutes  before. 

'  Surely  to  be  cousins  is  a  near  enough 
relationship.' 

'  Olive/  said  he,  reproachfully,  ^  unless 
you  have  formed  a  distinct  attachment  for 
some  one  else,  I  must  say  I  do  not  under- 
stand you.' 

'I  don't  want  you  to  understand  me,' 
she  replied,  with  half-averted  face. 

'  Why  are  you  so  hard  with  me  ?'  he  ex« 
claimed,  with  a  wistful,  longing,  and  mis- 
erable expression  in  his  eyes. 

She  made  no  reply,  so  he  spoke  again. 

^  I  have  had  a  long  consultation  with  our 
family  agent  in  Edinburgh.' 

'  About  what  ?' 

*  Your  affairs  and  mine,  Olive.' 

'i¥7/ affairs?' 

'  Yes,  and  I  have  obtained  the  opinion  of 
Ruby  Logan's  father,  and  of  counsel  of 
much  higher — yes,  of  the  highest — repute 


264  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

on  the  vexed  subject  of  your  fathers 
will — vexed  at  least  between  you  and  I, 
Olive.' 

She  gazed  at  him  with  something  of 
vacant  surprise  blended  with  inquiry  in  her 
face. 

*  What  I  am  about  to  suggest  may  be 
dangerous,  as  I  do  not  know  the  terms  on 
which  you  permit  yourself  to  be  with  this — 
Mr.  Holcroft — but  I  have  had  excellent 
legal  advice,  and ' 

*  Legal  advice — oh,  indeed !' she  interrupt- 
ed, with  a  toss  of  her  pretty  head  ;  *  that  is 
well,  for  the  laws  as  made  by  you  men  rank 
us  women  with  children  and  lunatics.  And 
what  says  this  advice  ?' 

'  That  you  can  be  freed  from  the  tram- 
mels of  your  father's  will — free,  and  the 
inheritrix  of  your  own  great  wealth.' 

She  regarded  him  for  a  minute  with 
blank  astonishment;  then  as  bright  joy 
like  suDshine  spread  over  her  sweet  face 


OLIVE  CHANGES  HER  MIND.  265 

and  sparkled  in  the  deptli  of  her  eyes,  she 
exclaimed,  in  a  low  voice, 

*  Free,  do  you  say,  free  in  my  own  actions, 
and  free  to  bestow  papa's  money  how  and 
on  whom  I  please  ?' 

*  On  whom  you  please,'  replied  Allan, 
thinking  with  intense  mortification  on  Hol- 
croft,  and  Holcrof t  only  ;  for  personally  he 
was  far  above  thinking  of  the  fortune  that 
might  otherwise  be  his  own,  as  the  stars 
are  above  the  earth.  ^  Let  me  but  see  all 
this  matter  fully  arranged  and  then  I  shall 
be  content,'  said  he,  after  a  pause,  during 
which  they  had  been  regarding  each  other  ; 
he,  her  with  sadness,  and  she  him  with  be- 
wilderment. '  There  are  rumours  in  the 
air  of  a  turn-up  with  the  Turks,  and  of  a 
war  in  Egypt,  and  right  glad  I  am  of  that !' 

'  Why,  Allan  ?' 

'  Because  I'll  get  attached  to  the  first 
army  corps  that  sails,  even  if  the  Black 
Watch  is  not  going  ;  but  that  it  is  sure  to 


266     THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

be,  as,  thank  God!  the  dear  old  corps  is 
always  in  everything.' 

^  And  why  this  joy  T 

'  To  get  as  far  away  from  you  as  possible/ 
he  replied,  bluntly,  in  a  hollow  tone. 

*  Must  you  do  so,  Allan  ?' 

'  Yes,  unless  I  mean  to  drive  myself 
mad.' 

*Do  you  really  love  me  so  much — and — 
and,'  she  paused,  for  she  seemed  touched, 
her  sweet  lips  were  quivering  now. 

'  What  more  ?' 

*  For  myself  alone,'  she  asked,  softly. 
'  Love  you — oh,  Olive.' 

*  There  now,  don't  ! '  she  exclaimed, 
turning  away  her  face,  and  Allan  shrank 
back. 

^  Playing  with  me,  after  all — after  all  1' 
he  muttered.  *  Will  you  please  to  look  at 
the  opinion  of  counsel,'  he  added,  drawing 
from  his  pocket  a  folio  document,  stitched 
with  a  red  thread,  and  with  a  broad  margin. 


OLIVE  CHANGES  HER  MIND.  267 

'  What  a  loDg  story  !'  she  exclaimed,  as 
she  glanced  at  and  read, 

'  Chambers,  Edinburgh. 
'  Copy  of  Counsers  opinion  referred  to  in 
letter  of  20th  October,  1882,  on  the  will  of 
the  late  Oliver  Raymond,  Esq,  of  Jamaica, 
with  note  of  fees  thereon.' 

'  What  a  fearful  long  story  !'  exclaimed 
Olive  again.  '  Tell  me  all  about  it,  Allan  ? 
but  pray  don't  read  it.' 

'  The  will  of  your  father  is  herein  de- 
nounced as  eccentric — one  that  no  court  of 
law  would  enforce,  nor  could  uphold,  as  in 
more  than  one  instance  it  is  not  conceived  in 
strictly  legal  terms,  and,  to  all  intents  and 
purposes,  can  be  put  aside  if  you  choose. 
Thus,  Olive,  you  are  free — free  from  all 
the  bonds — if  such  ever  existed — that  seem- 
ed to  bind  you  to  me  ;  and  I  thank  God  that 
it  is  so,  and  I  shall  go  to  Egypt,  perhaps, 
with  a  lighter  heart.     All  that  now  remains 


26S  THE  MASTER  OF  AJBERFELDIE. 

to  be  done  is  to  take  the  means,  if  such 
are  necessary,  to  have  the  document  set 
aside  as  so  much  waste  paper,  and  you  duly 
made  mistress  of  your  inheritance,  as  you 
are  now  of  age,  in  England,  at  least,  where 
it  is  invested.  Thus,  you  see,  Olive,  this 
opinion  of  counsel  is  most  valuable  to  you.' 

Her  soft  eyes  were  brimming  over  with 
tears  now,  as  she  mechanically  took  the 
document  in  her  tremulous  fingers. 

'  And  thus  you  relinquish  me  ?'  she  said. 

'  I  relinquish,  gladly,  your  fortune,  and 
all  control  over  your  actions,  if — you 
choose.' 

*Bat  I  don't  choose!  Oh,  Allan,  how 
generous  all  this  is  of  you.  But  I  shall  not 
be  less  so,  nor  will  I  act  upon  this  opinion 
of  counsel.' 

*How?' 

'  See,  thus  !' 

And,  tearing  it  into  pieces,  she  cast  them 
into  the  fire-o^rate. 


OLIVE  CHANGES  HER  MIND.  269 

'  Illegal  as  it  may  be,  papa's  will  must  be 
now  a  law  to  me  more  than  ever.' 
'  And  you,  Olive  ?' 

*  Love  you,  dear  Allan,  and  love  you  dear- 
ly,' cried  the  wilful  and  impulsive  girl,  as 
all  her  heart  went  forth  to  him,  and  he 
pressed  her  to  his  breast  at  last. 

Doubt,  pride,  defiance,  and  petulance 
had  all  passed  away,  and  Olive  was  all  soft- 
ness, love,  and  joy  now ;  and  to  the  pair 
time  seemed  for  a  term  to  stand  still,  and 
save  their  caressing  words  softly  murmured, 
and  the  twitter  of  birds  among  the  ivy 
without,  silence  appeared  to  reign  in  this 
room  ;  and  nothing  seemed  to  disturb  them, 
till  Olive  suddenly  started  from  Allan's 
arms. 

'  What  is  it,  love  ?'  he  asked. 

'  A  face  at  the  window  !' 

'  Whose  face  ?' 

*  I  know  not,'  she  replied,  with  some 
agitation.     ^  It  has  just  vanished.' 


270  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIB. 

She  thought,  nay,  she  was  sure,  it  had 
the  features  of  Hawke  Holcroft,  but  she 
did  not  say  so.  If  it  were  he,  how  much 
had  he  overheard,  how  much  overseen  1 

But  she  sopn  forgot  the  episode,  and  that 
night  at  dinner  she  looked  more  radiant 
than  ever,  in  her  suite  of  Maltese  jewellery 
— gold  set  with  orient  pearls. 

'  It  is  usual  for  engaged  ladies  to  have  a 
ring,'  Allan  had  whispered,  as  he  slipped  a 
magnificently  jewelled  hoop  upon  her 
mystic  finger. 

'  Fool  that  I  have  been  1'  thought  the 
girl.  '  How  near  was  I  estranging  one  of 
the  best  and  dearest  of  men  in  the  world, 
not  for  the  sake  of  one  immeasurably  his 
inferior,  even  worthless  perhaps,  but  in  a 
spirit  of  vanity,  pique,  and  suspicion  !' 

'  Allan,'  she  whispered  to  him  softly, 
when  an  opportunity  came,  *  I  see  now  how 
foolish  I  have  been  and  wilful — oh,  so  wil- 
ful !     But  we  all  make  mistakes  in  life,  and 


OLIVE  CHANGES  HEE,  MIND.  271 

require  at  times  each  other's  pity  aud  for- 
giveness.' 

How  sweetly  and  shyly  she  looked  and 
spoke. 

Hawke  Holcroft  felt  intuitively,  and 
indeed  saw,  that  there  was  some  sudden 
change  in  the  bearing  of  the  pair  to  each 
other,  and  that  a  sudden  brightness  had 
come  into  the  faces  of  all — even  that  of 
Eveline,  usually  now  so  triste  and  pale — and 
under  his  sandy  moustache  he  '  wondered 
what  the  devil  it  all  meant,'  till  his  watch- 
ful eyes  detected  the  new  and  brilliant  ring 
on  the  engaged  finger  of  Olive  Eaymond ! 

If  Mr.  Hawke  Holcroft  imao-ined  he  had 
nothing  to  dread  personally  from  the  Mas- 
ter's sudden  visit  to  Edinburgh  he  reckon- 
ed without  his  host,  as  he  would  have  found 
had  he  overheard  a  brief  conversation 
which  took  place  between  Allan  and  his 
comrade,  young  Cameron,  as  they  loitered 


272  THE  MASTER  OP  ABERFELDIE. 

in  the  gun-room  looking  over  old  Joe-Man- 
tons,  new  rifles,  and  central-fire  breech- 
loaders, &c. 

He  was  not  slow  to  perceive  very  soon 
that  Allan,  usually  so  suave  and  pleasant 
in  manner,  treated  him  now  with  a  kind  of 
stiffness  that  was  almost  hauteur ;  but  he 
dissembled  his  rage  and  so  did  Allan,  who 
had  a  keen  sense  of  the  laws  of  hospitality, 
with  the  genuine  British  dread  of  aught 
that  might  approach  a  '  scene,'  more  than 
all  as  the  visit  of  Holcroft  was  nearly 
ended. 

Poor  wretch!  he  strove  well  to  keep  a 
brave  front  in  society,  while  letters  that 
often  lay  beside  his  plate  at  breakfast  were 
seen  to  clond  his  brow  with  perplexity,  for 
they  alluded  to  wrong  horses  backed, 
I.  0.  U.'s,  bills,  and  cheques  '  referred  to 
drawer,'  and  so  forth,  and  he  must  have 
left  Dundargue  before  this,  but  for  a  friend- 
ly slip  of  paper,  which  he  had  received  from 


OLIVE  CHANGES  HER  MIND.  273 

Lord  Aberfeldie,  that  *  Fool  of  Quality,'  as 
he  thousrht  him. 

'  Look  here,  Cameron,'  said  Allan,  as  the 
twain  smoked  their  cigars  in  a  quiet  place. 
*It  is  little  wonder  to  me  that  yon,  Sir 
Pacret  Puddicombe,  and  one  or  two  others 
lost  at  cards  with  Holcroft  as  you  did.  I 
dined  with  our  fellows  at  the  mess  in  the 
Castle  when  I  went  to  Edinburgh.  There 
his  name  cropped  up  by  the  merest  chance, 
and  I  was  told  by  Carslogie  of  Ours  that 
he  was  present  at  a  shindy  in  London, 
where  this  fellow  Holcroft,  after  having  an 
unprecedented  run  at  cards  at  a  place  in 
St.  James  Street,  was  accused  of  having  the 
ace  of  trumps  up  his  sleeve,  from  whence 
it  fell  when  he  was  shying  a  bottle  at  the 
accuser's  head.  He  talks  to  the  pater 
largely  of  his  ''  place  in  Essex,"  or  what  re- 
mains of  it.  Involved  in  debt  to  a  ruinous 
extent,  he  gave  bills  right  and  left,  which 
were  dishonoured.     £10,000  hadbeen  rais- 

VOL,  I.  T 


274     THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

ed  upon  "his  estate,  in  wliicli  he  liad  only  a 
reversionary  interest,  and,  when  the  mort- 
gagees called  in  their  money,  and  the  estate 
was  sold,  it  did  not  suffice  to  pay  a  tithe  of 
the  sums  he  had  raised  in  every  conceivable 
way,  and  everyone  lost  their  money  all 
round.  Sharp  that  !  Yet  he  scraped 
through  without  punishment.' 

'  By  Jove  !' 

'  Worse  still.  Carslogie  told  me  he  was 
suspected  of  causing  a  horse  to  fail  in  a  race 
through  having  the  bit  poisoned ;  and  how 
he  left  a  young  fellow  in  the  Hussars  at 
Maidstone  in  the  lurch,  by  refusing  at  the 
last  moment  to  ride  for  him  a  peculiarly 
vicious  horse,  which  he  had  solemnly  under- 
taken to  do,  and  so  causing  him  to  lose  the 
race,  on  which  he  had  most  imprudently 
made  a  ruinously  heavy  book.' 

*  And  how  did  it  end  ?' 

'  The  report  of  a  pistol  that  night  in  the 
cavalry  barrack  announced  that  the  Hussar 


OLIVE  CHANGES  HEE  MIND.  275 

had  shot  himself — that  is  all !  And  this 
is  the  ''  young  man  of  the  period  "  whom 
mv  father's  confiding  simplicity  has  made 
a  welcome  guest  for  some  weeks  back  at 
Dundargue,  and  thrown  into  the  society  of 
my  sister  and  Olive  !  But  I  shall  fully  open 
his  eyes  the  moment  our  visitor  is  gone.' 

But  it  was  rather  a  pity  for  his  own  sake 
that  Allan  did  not  ^  open'  Lord  Aberfeldie's 
eves  a  little  before  that  event,  and  such  be- 
ingthe  character  of  Mr.  Hawke  Holcroft  the 
reader  may  feel  less  surprised  at  some  of 
the  things  we  may  have  to  record  of  him 
ere  loner. 


T  2 


276 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  CAKPET-DANCE,  AND  WHAT  CAME  OE  IT. 

Though  somewhat  of  the  nature  of  an 
impromptu  affair,  the  'carpet-dance'  partook 
of  something  of  a  more  important  kind. 
Many  guests  were  invited ;  the  ladies  were 
in  semi-toilet  and.  the  gentlemen  in  evening 
dress  :  but  the  great  dancing-room  at  Dun- 
dargue  was  decorated  to  perfection  bj  the 
care  of  Mr.  Tappletoo,  the  butler,  the 
housekeeper,  and  gardener,  with  the  rarest 
plants,  flowers,  and  ferns  the  conservatories 
could  produce,  disposed  in  China  and  Jap- 
anese jars  on  pedestals  and  marble  console 


THE  CARPET-DANCE.  277 

tables  of  the  time  of  Louis  XIY.,  at  whose 
court  a  Lord  Aberfeldie  had  once  been 
ambassador. 

The  fete  had  been  brought  about  by  the 
two  fair  cousins  as  a  farewell  treat  to  the 
last  of  their  present  guests,  who  were 
departing — Ruby  Logan,  Stratherroch, 
and — Mr.  Holer  oft ! 

Greatly  to  Eveline's  relief,  Sir  Paget  was 
gone,  but,  as  if  to  worry  her  further,  Sir 
Paget  left  for  her — with  Lady  Aberfeldie 
— a  letter  referring  to  his  admiration  and 
regard  for  her  since  the  last  season  in 
London,  and  with  it  a  handsome  diamond 
necklet — the  sight  of  which  in  its  fragrant 
E/Ussian-leather  case  she  loathed — with 
the  hope  that  she  would  accept  and  wear 
it,  in  token  that  she  was  holding  out  bril- 
liant hopes  to  him  when  '  they  met  in  town 
again.' 

Eveline  flatly  declined  to  accept  and  wear 
the  jewellery,  so,  to  her  intense  annoyance, 


278  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

it  remained  as  yet  in  her  mother's  hands. 
She  was  'biding  her  time/ 

The  wealthy  suitor  had  attained  a  bat- 
tered middle-age,  while  Eveline  was  still  in 
the  glory  of  her  youth.  True,  but  he  had 
both  wealth  and  rank  to  offer,  for  though 
she  was  an  '  Honourable  Miss,'  he  was  a 
baronet,  and  so  far  as  his  love  went,  if  it 
came  late  in  life,  it  was,  nevertheless,  a 
kind  of  overmastering  passion. 

The  new  emotions  of  her  heart  caused 
Eveline  to  reflect  more  than  perhaps  she 
had  ever  done  before.  It  seemed  but  yes- 
terday since  she  and  Olive  conned  their 
tasks  and  practised  their  scales  together 
under  the  eyes  of  a  governess  ;  since  they 
had  gathered  bouquets  of  wild  flowers  from 
the  clefts  of  the  rocks  of  Dundargue,  and 
made  fairy  caps  of  rushes  and  harebells  by 
the  burnside ;  happy  children  both  ;  but 
how  miserable  she  was  now  that  she  was  on 
the  verge  of  womanhood,  and  had  learned 


THE  CARPET- DANCE.  279 

to  love  and  to  hate  ;  for  she  loved  Evan 
Cameron,  and  hated — yes,  and  she  blushed 
as  she  admitted  it  to  herself — she  did  hate 
that  smiling  and  rubicund  old  interloper. 
Sir  Paget. 

^  And  you  will  not  wear  the  necklet  ?^ 
said  Lady  Aberfeldie,  for  the  last  time. 

'  Do  please  to  excuse  me,  dearest  mamma 
— I  cannot — yet  a  while.' 

Lady  Aberfeldie  was  pleased  by  the  half 
obedience  these  words  implied. 

'  What  ornaments  will  you  wear  then  ?' 
she  asked.  *  You  have  so  many  to  choose 
from.' 

*  Let  me  wear  the  lovely  diamond  neck- 
lace that  lies  in  the  strong  casket  in  your 
room,  mamma.' 

Lady  Aberfeldie's  calm,  patrician  face 
darkened. 

'  I  would  rather  you  wore  no  diamonds 
at  all,  child;  and  these  I  never  wear  my- 
self.' 


280  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

'But  why,  mamma?' 

*  Because  that  necklace  always  brings 
evil  to  whoever  wears  it/ 

'  So  I  have  heard.  But  it  is  a  silly 
superstition,  and  they  are  such  lovely 
stones  !     But  what  is  the  story  of  them  ?' 

*  The  wife  of  a  cavalier  who  died  with 
Montrose  on  the  scaffold  of  Edinburgh 
gave  them  to  an  ancestor  of  ours  to  save 
his  life.  This  was  the  first  viscount,  who 
was  a  zealous  Covenanter,  and  the  bosom 
friend  of  Lord  Warriston.  He  certainly 
took  the  jewels  from  the  poor  sorrowing 
wife ' 

'  And  the  cavalier  ?' 

^Was  beheaded  by  the  Maiden  at  the 
market-cross,  and  a  kind  of  curse  seems  to 
have  attended  these  diamonds  ever  since.' 

'  A  cruel  story.' 

*  But  a  true  one.' 

Eveline  laughed  at  the  superstition,  kiss- 
ed her  cold,  proud  mother,  and  carried  her 


THE  CARPET-DANCE.  281 

point ;  tlius,  at  the  time  when  carriage  after 
carriage  was  depositing  guests  at  tlie  great 
arched  entrance  hall,  Eveline  was  survey- 
ing her  figure  and  face  in  the  mirror  with 
all  a  young  girl's  satisfaction  and  think- 
ing that  her  slender  white  throat  never  look- 
ed as  it  did  then,  when  encircled  by  the 
sparkling  diamonds  of  the  luckless  widow, 
and  Olive  at  the  same  time  v/as  looking 
radiant  in  the  Maltese  suite  of  Allan. 

How  the  two  last  named  enjo37-ed  the 
€arpet-dance !  Perfect  confidence  was  so 
sweetly  established  between  them,  they  had 
so  many  little  secrets  to  tell,  so  many 
revelations  to  make,  so  many  comparisons, 
of  mutual  hopes  and  fears,  and  so  forth, 
while  each  seemed  to  exult  in  the  affection 
of  the  other,  and  felt  in  their  hearts  the 
words  ascribed  to  old  Catullus  : — 

'  Let  those  love  now  who  never  loved  before. 
Let  those  who  always  loved,  now  love  the  more  !' 

*  Those  two  young  fools  seem  to  under- 


282  TEE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDTE. 

stand  each  other  and  each  other's  interests 
at  last !'  whispered  Lord  to  Lady  Aber- 
feldie,  with  a  smile  of  amusement. 

'But  there  are  two  other  young  fools 
present  who  are  doing  their  best  to  mar 
each  other's  interests/  was  her  cold  and 
warning  response. 

Hawke  Holcroft's  shifty  eyes  lowered  as 
he  watched  the  cousins  and  whirled  in  a 
waltz  with  Ruby  Logan  or  any  other  girl 
who  came  to  hand.  He  was  in  utter  per- 
plexity to  find  the  new  footing  on  which 
these  hitherto  strange  lovers  so  suddenly 
were,  and  that  he  himself  was,  as  he  felt 
and  thought,  '  nowhere  !' 

W  hat  could  she  mean  ?  There  was  some- 
thing of  radiance  in  the  faces  of  all  the 
family — even  of  the  sweetly  pensive  Eve- 
line— all  indicative  of  a  new  movement  that 
he  was  out  of. 

'As  for  Olive,'  he  muttered,  while  a  sen- 
timent of  rage,  mingled  with  avarice  and 


THE  CASPET-DANCE.  283 

jealousy,  grew  strong  in  liis  heart,  '  she  is 
an  infernal  weather-cock,  but  a  deuced 
handsome  one !' 

Ruby  Logan  was  equally  puzzled,  but 
found  consolation  with  young  Carslogie  of 
the  Black  Watch,  whom  Allan  had  invited 
to  the  festivity,  and  who  styled  her,  with 
reference  to  her  hair,   '  the  amber  witch.' 

*  Happy  Olive  and  Allan,'  thought  Eve- 
line, as  she  rested  for  a  minute  on  the  arm 
of  Cameron,  '  they  may  have  as  many  round 
dances  as  they  choose  without  remark, 
while  mine,  with  him^  must  be  few  and  far 
between.' 

Her  dress  was  white  silk,  trimmed  with 
little  laurel  leaves  and  crowberry — the  latter 
a  delicate  attention  to  Evan,  as  it  is  the 
badge  of  the  Camerons. 

'  Will  you  wear  my  colours  to-night  ?' 
she  asked,  as  they  promenaded  at  that  end 
of  the  room  which  was  furthest  away  from 
*  papa  and  mamma.'  She  broke  off  a  spray 


284  THE  MASTEK  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

and  made  him  a  button-hole.  ^  Allow  me 
to  fix  it  for  you,'  said  Eveline,  and  deftly 
she  put  it  in  his  lapel,  while  Evan's  heart 
thrilled  to  feel  the  touch  of  her  beloved  hand 
— even  though  gloved — so  near  his  heart,  as 
they  swept  into  another  waltz. 

'  Aberfeldie/  said  the  hostess  to  her  hus- 
band, *  I  feel  certain  that  Evan  Cameron 
is  in  love  with  our  Eveline/ 

Lord  Aberfeldie  had  no  doubt  about  it 
whatever  now,  but  he  only  said, 

'  He  would  be  a  fool  to  be  otherwise.' 

*  But  that  is  not  what  we  seek  !' 

'  Certainly  not ;  but  all  young  fellows 
have  fancies  ;  and  he  will  be  gone  from 
this  in  a  few  hours  now.' 

*  Thank  Heaven,  yes  !'  responded  Lady 
Aberfeldie,  devoutly. 

'  By  the  way,  why  did  you  permit  her  to 
wear  those  unlucky  diamonds  ?' 

'  She  pled  so  hard,  and  then  the  idea  of 
their  briuging  evil  is  so  behind  the  age.' 


THE  OAEPET-DANCE.  285 

'  Behind  the  age  or  not,  something  unto- 
ward or  unlucky  always  accompanies  their 
appearance  in  public.  They  should  have 
been  sent  to  Bond  Street  long  ago.' 

And  Lord  Aberfeldie  smiled  on  her  affec- 
tionately, as  at  that  moment  he  could  not 
help  thinking  how  handsome  and  young 
his  wife  looked  in  her  costume  of  rich  ruby 
velvet,  trimmed  at  the  square  cut  neck  and 
arms  with  the  finest  white  old  lace,  while 
jewels  that  an  empress  might  have  worn 
glittered  in  her  ears  and  hair. 

Replacing  sometimes  the  professional 
musicians,  makinof  themselves  useful  at  the 
piano,  and  playing  certainly  good  dance 
music  were  two — the  '  mermaids,'  as  Hol- 
croft  called  them — the  minister's  daughters, 
who  were  usually  so  fond  of  warbling  that 
they  *  were  under  the  blue  sea.' 

He  knew  nothing  of  what  Allan  had 
learned  concerning  him — of  the  light  Cars- 
logie  had  thrown  on  his  private  life ;  thus, 


286  THE  MzVSTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

whatever  change  had  come  over  the  spirit 
of  Olive's  dream,  he  deemed  it  necessary  to 
ask  her  for,  at  least,  one  round  dance  as 
usual ;  and  Allan  watched  them  with  a 
haughty  grimace  on  his  features  as  they 
danced  it  in  a  silent  manner  that  was  peculiar 
and  rather  oppressive  to  both.  The  mo- 
ment it  was  over,  and  he  handed  her  back  to 
a  seat,  Holcroft  took  refuge  in  the  re- 
freshment-room, where  Mr.  Tappleton  gave 
him  a  foaming  glass  of  sparkling  cham- 
pagne. 

Young  Cameron  was  rather  grave,  Allan 
thought,  but  the  former  was  oppressed  by 
one  idea  then,  that  on  the  morrow  he  would 
have  to  report  himself  at  the  headquarters 
of  the  Black  Watch,  and  he  gazed  like  one 
in  a  dream  at  the  dancers  whirling  round 
him  ;  so  Allan  took  him  to  task  and  strove 
to  rally  him. 

*  Why  so  sad,  old  fellow  ?  You're  down 
on  your  luck,  somehow,'  said  he. 


THE  OARPET-DANCE.  287 

'  Because,  Graham,'  replied  Cameron, 
with  a  forced  smile,  '  there  ai^e  times  when 
I  am  inclined  to  ask  with  Mr.  Mallock,  "  Is 
life  worth  living  ?" ' 

'  Of  course  it  is — but  how  with  you  ?' 

^  Well,'  replied  Cameron,  with  whom  just 
then  one  bitter  thought  was  more  than 
usually  keen,  '  dipped  nigh  to  sinking  as 
my  place  of  Stratherroch  is,  I  don't  see  so 
much  to  live  for,  and  certainly  deuced  little 
to  live  upon.' 

*  Don't  take  this  gloomy  view,  old  fellow/ 
said  Allan,  cheerfully. 

'  It  is  very  well  for  you  to  take  a 
jolly  view  of  the  world,  Allan — you,  the  son 
of  a  peer,  and  engaged  to ' 

'  Take  heart,  man  ;  we've  lots  of  life  be- 
fore us — life  in  Egypt  perhaps.  There  is 
Eveline  sitting  alone ;  take  another  turn 
with  her,  and  then  we'll  have  some  of 
Mumms'  extra  dry  together.' 

Eveline  had  opened  an  album  as  Cameron 


288     THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

drew  near  her,  but  closed  it  ins'^antly  as 
tlie  first  photo  that  met  her  eyes  was  a 
fine  cabinet  one  of  Sir  Paget.  There  was 
an  expression  of  pensive  sweetness  in  her 
otherwise  radiant  face,  for  she,  poor  girl, 
never  for  a  moment  forgot  that  a  parting — 
too  probably  a  final  one  it  might  prove — 
was  close  at  hand  now,  and,  after  the  two 
past  delightful  months,  how  dreary  would 
the  future  seem  ! 

'  Are  you  tired  ?'  said  a  tender  voice  in 
her  ear ;  '  it  is  our  dance,  I  think — but 
would  you  rather  sit  it  out  ?' 

*  A  little  promenade  rather.' 

He  bowed,  and,  rising,  she  took  his  prof- 
fered arm.  They  made  a  circuit  of  the 
room  once  or  twice,  and  then,  lured  no 
doubt  by  the  coolness  and  seclusion  of  a 
long  corridor,  entered  it,  unnoticed  as  they 
thought ;  but  the  watchful  gaze  of  Lady 
Aberfeldie  had  followed  them. 

There  was  much   to    see   in  this  long, 


THE  CARPET-DANCE.  289 

stately,  and  vaulted  corridor,  and  its  deeply 
embayed  windows  overlooking  the  rock  on 
which  the  oldest  part  of  Dundargue  is 
perched.  Its  floor  was  of  parqueterie ;  its 
walls  of  wainscot,  with  massively  framed 
old  pictures ;  some  trophies  of  arms  and 
family  armour  hung  there,  and  the 
windows  were  furnished  with  ancient  stone 
seats  and  modern  stained  glass,  through 
which  the  radiance  of  the  setting  sun 
was  contending  with  the  dim  shaded 
lamps. 

Specimens  of  unique  china  and  frail  gob- 
lets of  Venetian  glass,  with  other  objects 
of  '  bigotry  and  virtue,'  as  Holcroft  had 
called  them,  were  there  in  oaken  cabinets 
and  on  exquisite  brackets.  Among  other 
things,  on  a  pedestal,  skilfully  stuffed,  the 
last  golden  eagle  that  had  been  shot  at  the 
Birks  of  Aberfeldie,  by  the  gun  of  Dugald 
Glas,  a  glorious  bird  that  measured  five 
feet  from  tip  to  tip  of  his  shining  pinions ; 

VOL.  I.  U 


290  THE  MASTER  OF  ABEEFELDIE. 

yet  none  of  these  things  caught  the  atten- 
tion of  the  two  promenaders. 

Her  hand  was  on  his  arm ;  involuntarily 
that  arm  pressed  the  soft  and  tremulous 
fingers  which  rested  there,  and  in  another 
moment  his  hand  stole  over  them  without 
their  being  withdrawn — nay,  it  seemed  as 
if  their  load  became  more  heavy. 

Eveline  was  not  unaware  that  there 
was  something  morally  wrong  in  the  situ- 
ation ;  but,  then,  '  the  situation  had  its 
charm.' 

'  Eveline  !' 

Cameron  had  never  before  ventured  to 
call  her  by  her  Christian  name,  nor,  until 
it  passed  his  lips  half  unconsciously  now, 
had  he  an  intention  of  so  uttering  it ;  but 
that  utterance  seemed  scarcely  a  new 
revelation  to  the  girl. 

Soft  and  lovely  was  the  shy  smile  upon 
her  upturned  face  as  they  stood  within  the 


THE  CARPET-DANCE.  291 

deep  bay  of  a  window.  Was  it  that  smile, 
or  what,  that  dazed  Evan  Cameron  and 
swept  his  senses  away ;  but  he  caught  her 
suddenly  in  his  arms  and  kissed  her  lips 
and  eyes,  whispering, 

'  Oh !  Eveline,  my  darling — my  dar- 
linsf  r 

And  then  there  was  a  pause,  full  of 
sighs  of  happiness.  '  The  stone  was  cast 
into  the  water,  and  the  still  lake  broke  up 
into  a  stormy  sea,  where  there  would  be 
peace  and  quiet  no  more !'  No  more,  at 
least,  unless  the  future  held  some  happi- 
ness for  these  two  poor  loving  hearts. 

'  Have  I  done  wrong  ?'  said  Cameron,  in 
a  breathless  voice,  after  a  little  time ;  '  God 
knows  I  never  meant  that  you  should  see 
how  dearly,  how  desperately,  and  how  hope- 
lessly I  love  you  when  I  let  the  precious 
secret  escape  me  as  I  did ;  but  it  is  done 
now.' 

u2 


292  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

She  was  pale  as  death  and  trembliD^^ 
violently,  as  she  thought  of  her  mother; 
yet  she  nestled  closely  and  clingingly  to 
him. 

'  You  love  me,  Eveline  ?' 

*  Can  you  ask  ?'  she  whispered.  '  Yes — 
oh,  yes — Evan.' 

He  was  intoxicated,  and  drew  her  close 
to  him  again.  Such  a  moment  comes  but 
once  in  life — once  only  ! 

*Let  us  go  now — we  shall  be  missed/ 
said  Eveline. 

'  Oh,  stay  one  moment  longer,  dar- 
ling.' 

'  Mamma,  if  we  could  only  get  her  to 
be  our  friend,  all  might  be  right  and  go 
well.' 

'  Even  with  my  poverty,  Eveline  ?' 

'Don't  call  it  so.  Yes,  papa  always 
gives  in  to  her  in  the  long  run.' 

Cameron  sighed. 


THE  CAEPET-DAKCE.  293 

*  Are  jou  two  practising  for  amateur 
theatricals,  or  admiring  the  stars  through 
the  stained  glass  ?'  said  the  voice  of  Lord 
Aberfeldie,  suddenly. 

We  have  said  that  the  eyes  of  his  wife 
had  followed  the  pair,  and  hence  no  doubt 
his  lordship's  sudden  appearance  in  the 
dimly-lighted  corridor.  Both  were  pain- 
fully confused. 

How  much  had  Lord  Aberfeldie  over- 
seen, how  much  had  he  overheard,  or  how 
little  of  both  ?  It  was  impossible  for 
them  to  guess,  but  he  good-naturedly 
affected  not  to  see  all  that  his  mind 
took  in. 

Cameron  felt  that  he  had  nothing  to 
explain,  to  urge,  or  to  utter,  but  bowed, 
smiled  a  very  hollow  smile  indeed,  and  led 
his  partner  back  to  the  dancing-room, 
where  neither  waltzed  more  that  evening, 
as    the    impromptu    affair   was    over,    the 


29-1?  THE  MAST?]Ii  OF  ABEREELDIE. 

guests  were  departing,  and  Lord  Aber- 
feldie  was  beginning  to  think  that  the 
diamonds  of  the  legend  were  already 
producing  their  evil  results  in  this  the  first 
untoward  event  in  the  young  life  of  his 
daughter. 

Allan  and  Cameron,  avoiding  Holcroft, 
sat  long  that  night  in  the  former's  room 
smoking  and  imbibing  brandy-and-soda, 
but  no  word  escaped  the  lover  of  what 
had  passed  in  the  corridor ;  and,  sooth  to 
say,  full  of  Olive  and  himself,  Allan  had 
never  missed  the  pair  from  the  dancing- 
room. 

Cameron  was  to  leave  Dundargue  be- 
times next  morning,  so  he  bade  farewell 
to  his  comrade,  who  charged  him  with 
remembrances  to  '  all  our  fellows  of  the 
Black  Watch ;'  and  anon  Cameron  found 
himself  alone  with  his  own  loving,  exult- 
ing, sad,  and  anxious  thoughts,  and  with 


THE  CAEPET-DANCE.  295 

the  little  bouquet — a  dwarf  laurel  leaf  and 
sprig  of  crowberry — dearer  to  him  then 
than  even  his  Victoria  Cross ! 

Again  and  again  did  he  rehearse  that 
sweet  episode  in  the  dimly-lit  corridor,  and 
again  and  again  in  the  time  to  come  would 
it  return  with  sorrowful  reiteration  to  his 
heart  and  memory;  ! 

Eveline  loved  him  !  Her  own  lips  had 
acknowledged  it,  her  kisses  seemed  still  to 
linger  on  his  lips ;  but  to  what  end — my 
God  !  he  exclaimed,  in  bitterness  of  heart, 
to  what  end  ?  Ao;ain  and  ao-ain  he  thous^ht 
over  her  plaintive  and  child-like  wish,  '  if 
we  could  only  get  mamma  to  be  our 
friend,'  and  all  that  wish  suggested.  Her 
mother  suspected  much,  he  feared,  and 
that  her  father  knew  all.  Sir  Paget,  with 
his  colossal  wealth,  was  looming  in  the 
distance  like  a  simoon  to  the  newly 
dawned  love ;   and  poor  Evan  could   but 


296  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIEc 

come  to  the  terrible  conclusion  that,  like 
too  many  others,  his  penniless  love  could 
only  be  a  hopeless  one. 

So  wore  the  night  away — the  last, 
Cameron  was  assured,  he  would  ever 
spend  in  Dundargue  ;   and  morning  came. 

Unslept,  Cameron  made  rapidly  the 
prosaic  preparations  for  his  departure,  and 
a  valet  had  borne  off  his  portmanteaus,  rugs, 
and  gun-case  to  the  entrance  hall,  where 
the  sleepy  Mr.  Tappleton  and  a  wagonette- 
awaited  him. 

As  he  was  about  to  descend  the  great, 
silent  staircase,  suddenly  Eveline,  fully 
dressed  for  the  day  and  softly  slippered, 
stood  before  him,  her  mignonne  face  very 
pale,  and  her  soft  hazel  eyes  inflamed  by 
past  weeping. 

'  Evan  !' 

'My  darling!' 

No    housemaids    were     about    as    yet, 


THE  CABrET- DANCE.  297 

and  no  prying  eyes  were  there,  nor  had 
Ronald  Gair  with  his  pipes  blown  reveille, 

'  I  could  not  let  you  go  without — with- 
out one  word  of  farewell,'  she  sobbed. 

Long  and  mute  was  their  embrace,  and 
the  heart  of  Cameron  swelled  as  if  to  burst- 
ing with  mingled  love  and  gratitude.  He 
pressed  her  to  it.  It  was  their  parting 
embrace,  and  both  seemed  to  feel  in  it 
that  which  a  writer  has  described  as  *  the 
vibration  of  an  agony.' 

'  I  feel  as  if  I  were  bereft  of  reason  !'  he 
whispered. 

'My  poor  Evan — my  own  dear  love!' 
cooed  the  girl.  One  kiss  more,  and  he  was 
gone. 

When  or  where,  if  ever,  would  they  meet 
again  ? 

Eveline  had  nervously  and  sedulously 
avoided  Sir  Paget  till  the  time  of  his  de- 
parture ;  and,  when  he  did  leave  Dundargue 


298     THE  MASTER  OF  ABEEFELDIE. 

in  the  dawn,  he  was  only  seen  off  by  the 
old  butler  ;  but  Evan  Cameron  had  an  un- 
expected farewell  caress,  the  memory  of  a 
sad,  soft,  and  clinging  kiss  that  he  was  to 
take  away  with  him  to  what  he  deemed  the 
land  of  bondage,  and  tearful  eyes  watched 
his  wagonette  as  it  passed  down  the 
avenue  and  out  upon  the  high-road  that  led 
to  the  railway. 

Evan  looked  backwards  at  the  tall  and 
stately  pile  of  Dundargue,  on  which  the 
rays  of  the  rising  sun  shone  redly,  and 
deep  in  his  heart  he  envied  Carslogie,  who 
was  to  remain  behind  for  a  couple  of  days' 
shooting.  Yet  wherefore  should  he  envy 
any  man  while  Eveline  loved  him  ?  was  his 
afterthought. 

And  she,  poor  girl,  seemed  to  feel  her- 
self left  most  terribly  alone  with  all  her 
sorrow — alone  amid  her  loving  family  and 
splendid    surroundings,    and  with   Evan's 


THE  CARPET-DANCE.  299 

words  of  love  lingering  in  her  ear  she  was 
soon  bidden  to  school  herself  to  think  of 
Sir  Paget,  and  Sir  Paget  Puddicombe  only  ! 
*  The  human  creature,'  it  has  been  written, 
^  who  would  have  suited  us  to  every  fibre  of 
our  being  we  have  not  found,  or,  having 
found,  have  not  possessed ;  but  (perhaps) 
undervalued,  and  so  allowed  to  pass  out 
of  our  lives.' 

These  tv/o  suited  each  other  '  to  a  fibre,' 
as  our  author  quaintly  puts  it,  and  in  per- 
fect unanimity  of  sentiment ;  and  yet  for  all 
that  they  may  be  compelled  to  pass  out  of 
each  other's  lives,  and  live  those  lives  far, 
far  apart. 

Under  her  mother's^  scrutiny  Eveline 
strove  hard  to  dissemble,  and  on  receiving 
her  morning  kiss  said, 

'  Well,  mamma,  no  evil  has  come  of  the 
wearing  the  diamonds — Dundargue  has 
not  taken  fire.' 


800     THE  MASTER  OF  ABEEFELDTE. 

*  No,  child — indeed,  good  has  come  !' 

'  How,  mamma?' 

'This  morning's  mail  has  brought  an  en- 
closure for  you — the  formal  proposal  of 
Sir  Paget; 

Eveline  was  stricken  dumb,  but  thought 
to  herself, 

'  Unhappy  I — evil  has  come  !' 

And  ere  noon  was  passed  she  was  taken 
to  task  by  her  father  in  the  library,  prompt- 
ed by  her  mother,  no  doubt. 

He  drew  her  to  him  caressingly,  and,  in- 
terlacing his  fingers  upon  her  head,  drew 
her  soft  cheek  upon  his  breast. 

'  I  think,  Eveline,'  said  he,  '  you  may 
know  by  this  time  how  well  I  love 
you.' 

'  I  do,  indeed,  papa,'  replied  Eveline, 
in  a  low  voice,  but  feelinof  her  heart 
sink  under  this  unusual  prelude  never- 
theless. 


THE  CAEPET-DANCE.  301 

'  And  yet  you  have  been  deluding 
me.' 

^  Deluding  you — I,  papa  ?' 

'  Yes; 

'Oh,  how?' 

^By  encouraging — pardon  me,  not  that 
— rather  by  permitting  a  visitor  to  encour- 
age certain  hopes.  That,  you  know,  it  is 
impossible  I  should  view  with  favour.' 

*  You  mean — you  mean '  stammered 

Eveline,    recalling    the    episode     in     the 
corridor. 

*  Evan  Cameron.' 

*  He  is  gone,'  said  she,  with  difficulty 
restraining  her  tears. 

'  To  darken  the  door  of  Dundargue  no 
more  !  Not  that  I  have  any  fault  to  find 
with  poor  Cameron — a  brave  fellow  who 
has  won  his  Y.C.,  and  is  a  Black  Watch- 
man to  boot ;  but  he  is  Laird  of  Strath- 
erroch  only  in  name;  his  purse  does  not 


802  THE  MASTER  OF  ABERFELDIE. 

come  up  to  tbe  requisite  standard,  and 
may  never  do  so  till  both  your  heads  are 
grey  ;  but  he  is  gone,  as  you  say,  and  we 
shall  think  of  him  no  more.  I  have  other 
brighter,  better,  and  richer  views  for  you, 
my  dear  child,  and  I  hope  you  will  not 
disappoint  us  all.  Sir  Paget  loves  you^ 
and  you  will  think  seriously  over  all 
this?' 

'How  can  I  do  otherwise,  papa?'  was 
the  dubious  response,  and  the  girl  stole 
away  to  her  own  room.  So  wearing  the 
diamonds  seemed  only  to  be  bringing 
about  a  sudden  crisis  in  the  affairs  of 
herself  and  the  banished  Evan  Cameron, 
for  such  she  deemed  him. 

And,  ere  she  went  to  bed  that  night, 
Eveline,  poor  girl,  strove  to  pray  that  she 
might  have  some  guide  or  assistance  up 
the  stony  and  thorny  path  which  she 
feared  was  before  her  now  in  life  ;  but  she 


THE  CARPET-DAXCE.  303 

no  longer  now  bad  the  deep  a,nd  unbroken 
sleep  that  had  ever  been  her  lot  the 
moment  her  soft  cheek  touched  the  pillow. 
Too  nervous  to  sleep  alone,  she  crept  in 
beside  Olive,  and,  nestling  her  little  face 
in  the  white  bosom  of  her  cousin,  wept 
long  and  bitterly. 

But  events  were  now  to  occur  that 
caused  even  the  brilliant  proposal  of  Sir 
Paget  to  be  forgotten. 


END  OF  THE  FIRST  VOLUME. 


LONDON:  PRINTED  BY  DUNCAN  MACDONALD,  BLENHEIM  HOUSE. 


i 


m^ii^m 


'^-MJk^^Ml 


UNIVERSITY  OF  ILLIN0I9-URBANA 


a  'i 


% 


3  0112  046409923 


ffl  ^ 

,  r.,  *  11^ 

^ 

Ri 

'hf 

'iv..       \'*f- 

f  7 

'jUJ 

Lm 

^.1 

'•'M 

^^'m| 

¥:^ 

K 

'M\-'*f''f^ 

W\% 

\  '3^^ifMjM 

^^1 


.-^fea±-l!ffj-^'  l_JJAAiS 


